On Borrowed Time
by Skinfull
Summary: 3rd Story of a trilogy: After being captured and tortured, Mulder escapes and runs to Seattle to set up a new life under a pseudonym, until Scully finds him while working a case. She returns to DC only to have Mulder land on her doorstep! *COMPLETED*
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Borrowed Time

**Author**: Skinfull

**Rating**: NC-17

**Classification**: MSR/MT _Uber MT_

**Spoilers**: NOPE

**Disclaimer**:Not mine, no profit, no harm.

**Summary**: This story is the third part of a trilogy. Funnily enough I wrote part 2 first, then part 1 and this beauty has been languishing on my hard drive for quite some time.

You can find the other parts on . In the name of the Father and Pleasure in Pain.

**Authors Notes: **This is for you. You know it's there when you need it.

Borrowed Time

**By Skinfull**

**Scully's Apartment.**

**Friday**

**25 Dec. 10.05AM**

"Do you want me to call him?"

Mulder glanced up at her, his eyes skimming the slice of toast she was holding uneaten in front of her full lips, the lips he'd wanted to kiss since he walked through the door last night. Slowly they made their way up her face to connect shakily with her wide cool blue eyes.

For a moment he basked in the smell of the coffee and toast, the tang of the marmalade on his tongue and the sight of her sitting across the table. The Sonics tee shirt she was wearing disguised her curves but the black shorts she wore made up for it. It was almost as he thought it would be. Except for the torment he felt in the pit of his stomach, the barely contained rage, the all consuming shame and worst of all, the pity seeping from her glistening eyes.

"No," he muttered. "I'll do it." Finally he tore his eyes away and dropped the remains of his toast onto the plate before him. Bringing the plate to the sink he left it down with a clatter and walked to the bedroom.

Scully watched him walk out of the room with his head lowered and let out a constricted breath. It was Mulder who'd brought up Skinner's name, as he waited for the toast to pop but his voice had trailed off. It had taken two slices of barely buttered toast and a cup of strong black coffee before she had the courage to mention it again.

Stifled conversation and stolen shameful glances burned his eyes so she looked away and concentrated on her own measly breakfast. Her stomach churned with the enticing smell but her body didn't seem willing to eat. Giving up she cleared away the dishes and wiped the table down in time to see a fully dressed Mulder walking around the couch to grab his coat.

"You're going out?" she asked surprised.

"I'm going over to the Gunmen. See if the airport sent my luggage over there."

"Oh. Okay." Nervously she ran her fingers down the front of her top. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No. I'd really rather go alone. Can I borrow your car?" He avoided her eyes as he concentrated on buttoning up his jacket.

Confused Scully couldn't move for a minute. He turned to face her with pleading eyes and she saw without trouble the tears there. She wanted to reach out to him, hold him, touch him sooth his pain but her body refused to comply.

"Scully?" his voice broke through her reverie.

"Sorry…they're over there. On the counter." She pointed out the keys that lay on the kitchen top and he wandered over to grab them. Walking back to the door he opened it, but hesitated. Glancing back at her he ducked away from her gaze and left.

It was snowing outside. Heavy and thick it covered the ground in big icy clumps that made him slip as he crossed the lawn to her car. The cold air stung his lungs and he cursed himself for running like this again.

Christmas eve in DC. He'd forgotten how cold it could be. His fingers fumbled with the bunch of keys as he neared the car, but something stopped him. Soft footfalls announced her running up behind him before she got close, but he kept his back to her as her hand closed around his arm.

"Mulder…" her voice was a whisper stolen by the rising wind. "Don't."

He kept his back to her, refusing to turn back to her eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes that glistened with sorrow. All the emotions he felt, all the reasons he'd left in the first place four years ago came flooding back with vengeance, screaming _I told you so_. He never wished to see the sorrow or pity in her eyes but it seemed since he woke up that was all he saw there.

"I need to get my stuff," he said weakly still without turning back to her.

"Then come inside. Please. Wait for me to get dressed and I'll come with you."

Slowly he turned and was surprised to see her standing behind him, dressed in only his Sonics shirt and a small pair of black shorts.

"Scully, you'll freeze." Mulder pulled his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders. He pulled it closed over her chest and rubbed her arms vigorously. Her lips shivered and her teeth chattered in the icy weather, but she seemed determined to make him wait. "Lets go back inside."

He rested his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close against him as they walked back to her apartment. He sat on the couch and waited for her to change, but when she came back fully dressed he didn't move.

"Mulder?"

"You can't follow me everywhere every minute of the day." He was sitting forward on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands interlocked before him. When she didn't reply he continued. "Are you afraid I'm going to run again?"

"Can you blame me?" she blurted before she could stop herself.

"Truthfully? No I can't blame you. But you have to trust me."

"Trust you." Slowly she walked around the couch and sat next to him. "I am trying to Mulder but…"

"I know. It's hard."

"Mulder," she moved to sit on the table in front of him, mirroring his position from the night before. "Look, there is a lot you need to do. And I will only be able to help you with some of it. I know a lot of it you'll need to face on your own."

He nodded, still avoiding her eyes.

"But you came here. You asked me for help. Are you going to let me help you?"

Slowly his head bobbed but she wasn't satisfied. She waited for him to look up, to articulate his agreement.

"Ok. I'm sorry." His eyes darted up to her's for a second but quickly moved away.

"Don't be sorry Mulder. It's hard and it's going to get a lot harder. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," he said quietly and he meant it.

"Don't run away from me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Skinner's Apartment. Crystal city.**

**Friday**

**25****th**** Dec. 11.02PM**

Walter Skinner kicked his shoes off and crossed his ankles upon the coffee table. With the remote in one hand and a turkey sandwich in the other he settled in to watch a wealth of Christmas movies.

The knock on his door was unexpected. So much so that he ignored it. But it rang out from the hall again. Two sharp short knocks. Glancing at the clock he saw it was just past eleven. His curiosity got the better of him and he slowly ambled over to the door, keeping one eye on the starting credits of some John Wayne movie. Taking a large bite out of his sandwich he pulled the door open, and nearly choked.

"Skinman!"

"What the hell…" He managed to swallow the bite whole and it lodged uncomfortably half way down his throat. Backing away from the door he watched as if in a trance as Mulder and Scully walked in. Mulder glanced around the apartment and claimed the seat by the open fire. Scully hung back, watching as Skinner rounded the couch and sat down with a heavy sigh. "Mulder?"

"In the flesh!" he said smiling; his hands open wide, palms facing out.

"What are you doing here?" Skinner took a long drink from the glass of beer he had by the couch to try and get rid of the lump of food in his throat.

"I flew in yesterday." Mulder looked over to Scully who was watching him intently. "It's a long story."

"This is a story I have time for."

"I'm going to make some coffee." Scully said, slipped her jacket onto the back of a chair and walked towards the kitchen. "Anyone else want a drink?"

"I'll have a beer Scully if you are buying."

Skinner, still stunned stared at Mulder as if he was a ghost, and in many ways, Skinner realized he was.

"I never thought you'd come back."

"Neither did I."

"What changed your mind?"

Mulder looking towards the door Scully had just walked through. "Scully." At Skinner's confused look he smiled and sat forward. "I've been working in Seattle for the better part of the last four years. As a detective with the city PD."

"Dana just got back from Seattle!" Skinner blurted out as if this was new information for everyone.

"I know."

As the hours passed, the pieces slowly started to fall into place and Mulder told his story. Leaving out the nights of pain and loneliness, he explained how he managed to end up working in Seattle and how he'd met Scully again.

"That's amazing." Skinner finished off his drink and set the bottle onto the table. "It's like a made for TV movie."

Mulder laughed loudly at Skinner's comment but realized it made so much sense. "I guess we're just a couple of oil barons away from prime time."

Skinner had noticed how quiet Scully was during the whole evening but he refrained from pointing it out. He guessed of course how hard this probably was for her, feeling his own confusion. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'll start looking for an apartment tomorrow."

"And a job?" Skinner prompted.

"No plans to get bogged down by the man yet." Mulder took a sip of his drink, avoiding all the eyes that watched him so intently, but he didn't miss the look that passed between them.

"You know you'd get back into the bureau." Skinner began. "I'm sure you'd pass the re-qualification exams-"

"I don't think that will be an option for me. Maybe I'll stay in the private sector. It's not really a priority at the moment."

The room filled with an uneasy silence. Eyes darted and feet shuffled, everyone suddenly uncomfortable. Mulder wanted to stand up and scream. Shout to the heavens for release. As if he could read their minds and knew what they were thinking, knew what he felt and knew how deeply his pain went. He wrung his hands together over and over, his palms sweaty and slick.

"Well this certainly is a Christmas surprise," Skinner said trying to break the heavy tension that suddenly overwhelmed the room.

"Sorry for keeping you so late. Maybe we had better go." Scully watched Mulder's white knuckled hands writhe before him as she stood.

"Not at all. I'm glad you came." He stood up before Mulder who stood with him, his eyes transfixed on something no one else could see. Unsure whether he should hug him or just shake his hand, Skinner waited for Mulder to move and when he did he found himself engulfed in a friendly hug. Smiling Mulder stepped back and glanced at his old boss, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks.

"Nice to see you again."

"You too Mulder. Keep in touch."

**Washington Park**

**Monday**

**27****th**** Dec 11.50PM**

Moonlight shattered onto the ground through the canopy of trees. The brush under foot was thick and heavy and it clung to his legs cutting and scraping his skin as he stumbled on. He held his arm across his waist tightly, holding his stomach, as the cramps got worse. His fingers were numb from the lack of blood as it poured from the open wounds on his wrists. He watched in revulsion as his arms, covered with Maori tattoo designs, turned crimson red, the patterns disappearing as his skin burned in pain and his blood pumped out.

"One foot before the other, one step at a time," he muttered softly to himself as he lurched forward, further into the darkness. The sounds of the city faded and were replaced by the living forest that surrounded him. Wind rustled the trees noisily as the nocturnal animals looked on curiously at their intruder.

"C'mon Jonathan, just a little further." A wave of pain washed over him, making him break out into a cold sweat. His skin tingled in anticipation as he tried to ignore the agony and stumbled on.

His blood was smeared across his stomach where his hands tried desperately to cling to his torso, but managed only to scrape it. Then finally he saw it. As the trees opened out onto a pebbled beach, he watched in awe at the sight of the moonlight dancing of the small waves that caressed the shore. His steps quickened as he hurried across the pebbles, his footing loose and erratic on the wet stones. When he fell forward he was too slow to catch himself and ended up smashing his face on the rocks, but it did nothing to dissuade his movements. In one quick roll he lurched forward, back onto his feet and marched into the icy water.

The initial shock of freezing water lapping his naked body was pushed aside as he waded in further, submerging his whole body up to his chin. His eyes fixed on the moon as he tried to stand as still as he could, but the current pushed heavily against his quickly numbing legs.

"Heal me, O LORD," he shouted to the sky. "And I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise."

Jonathan lifted his arms up to the sky, raising his hands heavenwards and smiled at the burning itch that enveloped the wounds on his wrist. He watched in wonder, as the flesh seemed to ripple and squirm across his skin, melding together and sealing his wounds. The blood washed away in the moonlight taking all the tattoos with it, leaving only the sallow tint of his natural coloring.

Jonathan backed out of the water and dropped heavily onto the pebbled beach. His belly shook with mirth at his own lucky escape. Looking down at his arms once again he laughed out loud, the gashes moved and shimmered in the moonlight until they finally disappeared. He sat bolt right up, and bellowed at the moon at the top of his lungs, "O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee forever."

The sky above him swirled in a coil of inky dawn colors before darkening and flickering back to his candle lit bedroom. His eyes adjusted to the dimness and he blinked away the tears. The pain was gone, his body felt heavy and weary. Then as the shadow stepped out of the corner he turned his head towards it and smiled.

"It worked," he cried, his voice croaking painfully. "It worked."

The figure came closer and stepped over Jonathan's body, with his feet on either side of his hips. Jonathan watched through a weakened smile as the figure lowered and sat on his torso, warm familiar hands circling his neck.

"Save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise, save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise," he repeated softly over and over as the hands tightened on his throat until the last breath of life had been squeezed out of his burning lungs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Office of Dr. Keith Morrison**

**Tuesday**

**28****th**** Dec 9.30AM**

The waiting room was just big enough for three small chairs. There was no door, just a small archway that led from the front door into the seating area and through to a corridor with three other closed doors.

_Less of a room_ Mulder thought, _more of a hallway_.

The walls were painted a mint green but it was chipping at the corners and needed to be freshened up. The office was situated in a very old building on the southeast side of the city. Scully was surprised at his choice of doctors, knowing he could afford one of the better clinics in the city, but didn't second-guess his decision.

Mulder sat slumped in a small uncomfortable chair with a wooden back and arms. It stuck uncomfortably into his hips making him shift his weight constantly. Next to him, Scully watched his fidgeting and stilled him with a hand on his.

She was surprised to find his hand cold and clammy and then noticed the sheen of sweat that lined his brow. His eyes were blinking rapidly and focused on nothing but the bare walls around them.

"Mulder," she whispered. He looked at her, surprise on his face as if he hadn't realized she was there, even though she'd driven them to the office. "Take a deep breath."

Her hand tightened on his and she took a breath with him, helping him to relax but as one of the doors beside them opened she felt his pulse quicken, his eyes darting towards the exit as he mentally screamed to be freed.

"Fox Mulder?" From the office a tall slender man stepped out. He was wearing a pale blue shirt, with no tie, tucked into a pair of cream khakis. His hair was brown, neatly trimmed and his smile surrounded in a light goatee.

"Yes." Mulder rose slowly, releasing Scully's hand and stepping forward.

"I'm Dr. Keith Morrison." He stepped forward and shook Mulder's hand before glancing over at Scully. "And you?"

"I'm with him. Is it okay if I wait here?"

"Of course." He smiled. "The kitchen is through there if you want to get some coffee."

Scully smiled in appreciation but she was looking at Mulder, waiting for him to glance back, waiting for him to look at her for reassurance but he never did. Just walked past the doctor and entered the office without a second glance.

The office was small and spartanly decorated. Barely enough room for the furniture it held. The seating surrounded a large ornate fireplace that looked like it hadn't been used for years. Over the fireplace was a large painting of a generic farmyard scene but Mulder guessed there was something about it, some ulterior reason for it to be in this room. Directly opposite the door was a window but Mulder couldn't see what kind of view it had.

The seat that he guessed was for Dr Morrison was soft and comfy with a high back and pillowed arms. Mulder took a seat on the end of the couch nearest the door and sat back deeply into it. He planted his feet onto the ground and his hands in his lap, willing his heartbeat to calm down. Dr Morrison came in quietly behind him, closing the door softly.

"Can I get you a drink or anything before we start?"

"No thank you. Dr Morrison." Mulder looked over towards him and picked a spot just behind his head.

"Please, call me Keith."

They sat in silence for a moment and all Mulder could hear was the tremendous pumping of his heart. It thudded loudly in his chest, banging against his ribs, hard and fast. He felt almost sick with panic.

"Before we start I'd just like to get a few details from you if that's okay?" Morrison pulled a small black notebook from the side of his chair. It looked battered and worn and had more than a few pieces of tape holding it together.

"Sure."

"Your name is Fox Mulder?"

"Yes."

"And your date of birth?"

"October 13th. 1961."

"That's fine. And family?"

"No." Mulder said quietly, looking down at his lap.

"Sorry?" Dr Morrison looked up with a small frown, his pen hovering over the page he was writing on.

"I don't have any family. My parents are both died."

"No siblings?"

"…I had a sister but she…not any more."

Sensing a deeper hole than Mulder was prepared to lead him into; he backed away and slipped his notebook back between the cushions. "You called me from Seattle?" Keith started sensing Mulder reluctance.

"Yes," Mulder said succinctly.

"And you recently moved back to DC?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to start by telling me why you are here?" Keith crossed his legs and folded his hands onto his lap.

"To talk." Mulder's eyes moved to the fireplace where he studied the grating. When the doctor didn't say anything else he looked over to him. "But then I guess you knew that."

"What is it you want to talk about?"

"Well to be brutally honest I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to pull it all up and I certainly don't want to analyze it."

"So why are you here?"

"For her." He tossed his head over his shoulder towards the door.

"You won't accomplish anything in here with me unless you do it for yourself."

"Accomplish? What do you think I should accomplish?" Mulder asked bitterly.

"What do you want to accomplish?"

"I want…I want to be free." Mulder looked over to Keith and wondered if his story would horrify him. Would it be old tales to him? Would he have heard it all before? His mind flashed back to his nightmares and for a minute he was back there. Back in the cell with the stinking damp smell of rancidity. Foreign hands touching him, cold water covering him and hot shame devouring him.

With a start he was back in the calm quiet of the room and he knew it was a nightmare, a waking terror flashback, but the taste of bile that threatened to explode into his mouth was real. He swallowed hard; forcing it to go back down. Sensing his struggle, Keith stood up and walked over to a small table under the window where he poured Mulder a glass of water.

"Take this." He handed Mulder the glass and reclaimed his seat, his eyes never wavering from his patient. "Where were you just now?"

Mulder didn't answer. His eyes froze, staring at the fireplace, unfocused and glazed over. Keith watched him for a moment. Waited for him to reply, all the while Mulder's mind screamed out. Screamed for him to speak and let the pressure out but his lips wouldn't comply.

_I was there, I was there, I was there, I was there_, he said over and over in his mind. Willing his lips to play their part but they steadfastly refused. Nothing he tried could make his voice work, no words, and no variations on the same sentence. Inside he was screaming for the release he knew he needed but it was no use.

"Fox?" The sound of Keith's voice cut though his mental tirade like a hot blade, but still his own voice remained mute.

Mulder shot a quick glance at the doctor but his eyes strayed away from the soft frown. The pity he was seeing everywhere stung his pride and blinded him. He couldn't answer. Couldn't speak or think or move. Like the grip of sleep paralysis he found his body rigid and unresponsive. His eyes closed over for a second as he took a deep breath and tried to regain control but nothing worked.

"Maybe that's enough for today."

Slowly as Mulder's body started to relax he blinked the haze away and turned to face Keith fully for the first time. Unsure of how much time had passed while he was entranced, Mulder glanced at his watch and noted with shock he had been there for just under an hour.

_Wasted. Waster. Useless_, were the words that sprung into his mind but he pushed the thoughts back, ignoring them as he stood up to leave. His legs ached from their lack of movement, weakened now as they had been tensed for so long.

"I'll see you on Friday?" Keith said with a warm smile.

"….Yes."

Mulder made no eye contact as he left the room and offered Scully only a passing glance as he hurried by her, through the front door, out into the cold winter air. Scully hurried behind him silently, clicking the remote unlock on the car keys before Mulder reached the door. He yanked it open and stepped in, already buckled up and staring out the window before she climbed in next to him.

Without a word she started the engine and pulled out into traffic. He remained silent as they drove through the half deserted streets until finally she could take it no more.

"How did it go?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh it went marvelously," he bit back angrily. She wasn't sure if he was angry with her or himself but she guessed the latter. Deciding to offer him the silence he sought, she concentrated on driving through the snow-covered road.

When they arrived at her place he seemed content to just sit in the car. After climbing out and slowly making her way round to his door, she paused and rapped on the window.

"Mulder?" she called softly. "You coming in?"

"No." Reluctantly he unbuckled his belt and climbed out to stand on the sidewalk beside her, but instead of looking at her he buttoned up his coat, fixed his collar, fidgeted with his sleeves, anything but look at her. "I think I'll take a walk."

"Want some company?"

"No. No thanks. I'd rather be alone."

"Okay." She stepped back toward the apartment. "You have a key right?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you later then."

But he was already gone, already braving the crosswinds and falling snow as he walked with determination away from her. Scully tried not to take it to heart but he needed the time alone. The time to come down from the emotional high she knew he was experiencing.

Scully walked into the cold empty apartment and busied herself lighting a fire. She hung her coat up to dry on the rack and shook the errant flakes out of her hair. When the phone rang she all but pounced on it.

"Hello?"

"Dana." It was David, she realized with a pang of disappointment.

"Hi David."

"How are you? Everything ok?" He had sensed her saddened tone and it didn't take an FBI Agent to figure out why.

"Yeah. Just tired. When do you get back from Boston?"

"On Thursday. Bright and early."

"Do you want me to meet you at the airport?"

"Well that was one of the reasons I was calling. Would it be too much trouble?"

"Not at all. What time do you land?" She grabbed the notebook from beside the phone and prepared to take down the details.

"Landing at 11.20. Flight AA143."

"No problem." She wrote it down clearly and replaced it on the desk.

"So how did everything go?"

"Sorry?" she tried to feign confusion but knew he would see right through it. He always did.

"With…Frank…Fox Mulder?"

"Everything is fine," she lied. "How's Janice?"

"She's great. Looking forward to getting back to DC though."

"I see." She wasn't even listening. With one eye on the door and her mind racing, imagining what Mulder was doing, how he was feeling; she was too distracted for the banality of small talk.

"I'll let you go Dana. You seem tired."

"I'm fine David. So I'll see tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Let me know if there is any trouble picking me up and I'll sort something out."

"It's no trouble David. Looking forward to seeing you."

She hung up and stood there for a moment. Unsure of what to do or what to think, she forced herself to relax. Sliding onto the couch she pushed away the blankets Mulder had been sleeping in to the other end and tucked her feet beneath her. Picking up a book from the coffee table she idly flicked through it, seeing nothing, reading nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

The wind bit into his face in small icy chunks as the snow fell hard and fast against his skin. But it wasn't enough to break through the daydream he seemed to be stuck in. His mind relived over and over again the hour-long therapy session he'd just spent. For the unholy price of $90 he'd sat in a room and stared at a painting.

_Bloody Guggenheim is cheaper than that_, he mused bitterly. _And it's got better art. _

So many thoughts fighting for supremacy, battling to control him he was sick of it. The fear, anger, the hatred, even the apathy. He couldn't do it anymore and decided it would be better if he felt nothing at all.

Mulder passed slowly by the thick wooden door then did a quick turn about, grabbing the heavy handle. It slid open with more ease then he expected and he stepped into the thick smoky bar. He was surprised to see most of the tables taken at this early hour but he managed to spot one empty in the back. Ordering a double whiskey at the bar, Mulder paid for it and carried his drink over to the corner.

He dumped his coat on the other seat to ward off any unwanted visitors and hunched over the table, covering his drink like it was a national secret. The other patrons barely offered him a glance as he sullenly sipped the burning liquor, sinking deeper into himself, oblivious to his surroundings.

When his glass was empty he caught the bartender's eye and ordered another. A buxom waitress with a New Orleans drawl delivered it to his table but he didn't even acknowledge her. Dropping a fifty-dollar bill onto the table he let her take it and bring back his change.

It was only just bordering on noon and already he was most of the way through a bottle of whiskey.

His face felt hot with shame. He looked around the room expecting to see them all staring, pointing, laughing but no one even seemed to notice him. It felt good not to be noticed he realized.

Idly he unbuttoned the left cuff of his sleeve and pulled it up a bit. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking he clenched his fist and looked down at the underside of his arm. The thin scar that marred his skin was about three inches long. He rubbed his index finger along it and curled his lip in disgust at his own weakness.

The memory bounded through his drunken haze with such clarity it scared him. Ordering another drink he tried to fight it off but it was no use. It controlled his senses so much he could smell the blood. The tangy copper stench that invaded his senses and overpowered him. Suddenly the room started to move and sway around him, his eyes swirled and moved about the room and suddenly he wasn't sitting in the bar anymore.

Mulder felt the cold sea air on his skin, tasted the salty tang in his lungs and listened to the waves crashing on the rocks twenty feet below. His legs felt numb with the cold as they dangled over the cliff edge but he was gone beyond the point of caring.

Moonlight glistened off the straight blade in his hand as he angled it between his fingers absent-mindedly. Decisions were made already and only action needed to be taken now, he muttered to himself opening the blade fully and grasping the leather handle. With his left hand resting along his leg he pressed the razor to his skin, watching numbly as the small smattering of blood oozed out of his skin. He dragged the blade up his arm, not feeling the pain he expected or even the regret.

The blood was warm on his skin and quickly covered his arm, pooling in the palm of his hand and trickling through his fingers, falling to the rocks below. Suddenly awash with drowsiness Mulder looked to his other arm but his mind couldn't focus and his limbs refused to co-operate. Instead he fell back onto the wet grass behind him and sank into darkness.

Mulder opened his eyes and looked into the ample chest of his waitress. Somehow he had fallen onto the floor from the chair and fainted. He felt a pair of strong hands pulling his arms, pulling him off the ground and gruffly dropping him onto a seat. He wanted to lift his head to see who had helped him but his neck felt like rubber. The scar on his arm was red and raw where he had been scraping it, mimicking the motion over and over. He must have knocked over his drink as it was soaking his shirt, sticking it to his chest.

"I'll call you a cab buddy."

Mulder watched helplessly as two boot clad feet walked away from him. His mind seemed to be frozen, with his body caught in a drunken paralysis. Before he managed to collect himself, he was deposited into a waiting cab.

"Where to?" he heard the driver asking but his lips were unwilling to co-operate. "Hey! Buddy! Where you wanna get to?"

"Georgetown," he managed to mumble although he was sure it wasn't as clear as he hoped.

"Anything more specific?" The driver gunned the engine impatiently.

Gathering up all his strength Mulder took a breath and blurted out Scully's address. The effort overwhelmed him and he let his head slump backwards pulling him into sleep.

Scully woke up slowly and looked around the darkened room. It was just past five in the afternoon and already the evening was dull and gloomy. She noticed, disappointedly, that there was no sign of Mulder. Wherever he'd gone he hadn't returned yet. Then the blast of a car horn on the street reminded her what had woken her. Rushing to the window she looked outside to see a taxi driver standing over Mulder's fallen form.

She rushed out of the apartment and crouched over him. The first thing she noticed was the strong smell of whiskey that seemed to be stuck to his clothes, hair, breath… everything.

"Mulder?" she said checking his pulse and finding it slow but steady.

"He just passed out," the cabbie said in annoyance. "And he hasn't paid his fare yet."

"Here!" Scully thrust a few bills into his hand and tossed him an angry glare. "Help me get him inside."

She forced the driver to clutch Mulder's arms, propping him up and she led him into her apartment. The driver dropped him onto the couch and Scully handed him some more money from Mulder's wallet.

When he'd gone she got him a glass of water from the kitchen. It took a few moments but she managed to pull his coat off and out from under him. His shirt was rumpled and wet from the drink he'd spilled so she pulled that off too.

"Mulder," she gently slapped his cheeks to revive him. "C'mon Mulder. Wake up for me. Take a drink of this."

His head lolled to the side and he tried to turn away from her but she was too strong for him. His eyes scrunched closed in protest of her intrusion and his lips parted with a soft moan.

"Mulder," she said sternly this time, shaking his shoulder.

Finally he managed to battle through the drunken darkness towards the sound of her voice even though that grated on his ears, piercing his head painfully. His eyes opened to mere slits and he rolled his head over to see her sitting beside him. Her face was a mask of concern and he tried to smile but it was no use. Everything hurt. His eyes stung and watered, his mouth felt like he had eaten a clod of dirt and even his hair roots tingled painfully.

"Scully," he croaked out, his lips barely moving. "I think I'm drunk."

"Drink this." She helped him lift his head and forced him to take a few sips. "Want to go to bed for a while?"

"Not if it involves moving." His head felt like it was a sponge, expanding and moving, soggy and heavy as lead. Thoughts felt foreign to him and uncontrollable but at least they were unrecognizable to the usual terror that flashed in his mind. The engulfing bliss of his momentary ignorance was worth the pain. No images forcing themselves on him, no sounds, smells or fears could penetrate the whiskey barrier.

He slept.

For the first time since he had appeared on her doorstep on Christmas Eve, Scully saw him sleeping peacefully. He didn't wake up sweaty and screaming, he didn't toss and turn restlessly. He just slept.

Scully got to her feet and crouched over to pick up the glass from the floor. Her eyes strayed to his bare chest. The red marks on him from being lifted out of the cab, and into it, she could see now, she didn't have to imagine. She ran her finger over them gently and froze as her eyes gazed over the top of his arm.

It had been scratched red raw. His nails had cut his skin in small crimson crescents but it wasn't the scratching that pulled her heart into her throat. The thin red line beneath it was unmistakable. Knowing he was asleep but glancing at him anyway, she dropped the glass and knelt beside him. Taking his arm and turning it towards her she ran the pad of her thumb over it, feeling its uneven ridge in horror.

"Oh Mulder," she gasped. The repair work had been the best she had ever seen. No stitch marks or jagged scars remained. Her medical mind recognized the butterfly stitching that must have been used but the rest of her only saw the despair etched in those telltale scars, and their implications.

He murmured something unintelligible and tried to roll away from her, dragging his arm with him. She watched him curl protectively into the back of the couch for a moment before draping a heavy blanket over him and finally leaving him in peace.


	5. Chapter 5

Scully's Apartment Wednesday

**29****th**** Dec**

Mulder walked out to the main foyer and retrieved Scully's paper out of the basket. It was routine now. A routine he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with. For the past few days he would wake up on her couch, tidy away the blankets and pillows and start cooking breakfast. The smell of the food and rich coffee would wake her and she seemed to time her entrance into the kitchen just as it was ready. Then after eating he would collect the paper while she cleaned the dishes away.

Something nagged in his mind.

"Granted," he mused to himself. "After the amount of alcohol you drank yesterday lets just be happy you still have a mind!"

He sat on the couch and pulled the plastic wrapper off the paper. He opened it out to the property section and scanned the page for rental apartments. The hangover he was nursing reared up at the thought of having to concentrate but Mulder forced himself to focus.

Seeing a few options, he circled them and continued to read before reaching for the phone to make his enquiries. By lunchtime he had showered and changed and even managed to knock his hangover into the back of his mind.

Scully was standing in the living room, the list of viewing appointments in her hand when he walked over to her. He'd noticed she was a lot quieter than usual this morning but he hadn't been in the mood for chatting either.

"You want me to go see them with you?" she asked. "Or should I just relinquish the car keys?"

"You should come. Make sure I ask all the right questions." She nodded.

The first apartment was small and dark on the sixth floor of a very old building. There was no lift and no central heating. The water pressure was too low to do any good and it came without furniture.

Swapping glances they silently agreed it was no good for him and made their excuses to leave. The second one was closer to Scully's place. Too close, Mulder mused. But as they looked around he realized he wouldn't need to make up a reason for not living here. The walls were damp and rotten, and looked like it hadn't been decorated since Nixon was in power.

Five apartments later, he finally stepped into one that didn't repulse him at first glance. The price was a little higher than he had hoped but after the morning he'd spent, he decided to raise the bar a little.

It was on the third floor of a fairly new building. The kitchen was fully equipped but small and he argued to himself that he wouldn't be using it much anyway. The living room was spacious, airy and had a large bay window that opened out onto a small wooden deck, which overlooked views of Truxton Park.

Furniture was sparse but Mulder figured he could buy what little else he would need. He listened intently as Scully asked the important questions about property management, heating, and water pressure and then onto parking.

The Landlord told them about the underground garage for all residents, and how an outside firm cleaned the public areas weekly. Scully's expression seemed agreeable as he walked around once more before stopping beside her.

"This place is just what I'm looking for."

"Oh that's nice." The landlord was delighted and smiled at them both clasping his hands enthusiastically. He was smaller then Scully and slightly overweight but his smile was wide and sincere. "It's ready for renting immediately. When do you expect to move in?"

"Well I'm ready to rent immediately too so tomorrow if that's okay?"

Scully seemed a little shocked at Mulder's urgency but she said nothing, just plenty with her expression. She ambled out to the car as Mulder wrote out his deposit check and took a set of the keys.

When he joined her he was managing a small smile but it didn't reach his eyes. It seemed to be mostly for her benefit but she didn't want his complacency. She wanted his honesty.

"Signed and sealed," he said as she started the engine and pulled into traffic. "You'll finally have your place back to normal."

"Mmm hmm," she replied non-commitally.

"You okay Scully?"

Scully concentrated on the traffic for a moment, holding her answer inside. But the traffic was annoyingly light and didn't require 100% of her concentration.

"Scully?" he prodded again.

"It's nothing Mulder. Lovely apartment isn't it?" she tried to change the subject but he wasn't going to allow it.

"I thought I was going to be the one with the vague answers and evasive questions."

Somehow Scully kept her eyes on the road and off Mulder for the rest of the journey. They walked slowly into her apartment. Once inside, as she crossed the living room towards her bedroom he'd had enough. He grabbed her arm, turning her roughly to face him.

"What is it?"

"Mulder," Scully began her voice low and husky as she struggled to control her emotions. "I can't force you to open up to me. I can't make you tell me how you are feeling, what you are feeling or what is causing you so much pain."

Confused and sensing he was being backed into a corner he couldn't escape from; Mulder dropped her arm and took a step back.

"But I do need you to be honest with me."

"I am being honest."

"When I saw you in Seattle it was…it was…like nothing I had felt before. Suddenly after missing you for so long, never expecting to see you again and finally accepting that fact, then there you were."

"I missed you too Scully," he managed with a crooked smile.

"No Mulder!" she bit back angrily, scaring him with the sudden change in her demeanor. "You don't get it! What happened in Seattle…between us…was a result of all those emotions building up to a point where I couldn't control them anymore."

"I don't understand."

"We can't let our emotions build up like that again." She took a step forward and pulled his left arm up. Before he realized what she was doing she had pulled back the sleeve of his sweater and held his arm out between them. "We can't let them hurt us like this again."

Mulder stared down at the scratching that covered his scar. Bleary eyed and suddenly weary he felt his shoulders slumping and his breath rattling shakily in his lungs. His lips parted as his breathing became ragged and suddenly felt his chest constricting, his ribs closing in and tightening making it hard for him to breathe. He tried to focus on his arm but his eyes were swimming with unshed tears.

"Mulder?" She said resting a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged her off. Turning abruptly away from her he headed out the door and slammed it behind him.

**3****Rd**** Street Youth Hostel**

**Thursday**

**30****th**** Dec 7.20AM**

The smell was beginning to creep downstairs. Although the halls were small and cramped and the rooms even smaller, James Boland had never known such a bad stench coming from his rooms before.

Fifteen years he had been running this youth hostel and he tried his best to give the kids what they needed; hot meals and a friendly ear to listen, a measure of confidence. He never ventured into their rooms while they were occupied and imposed very few house rules to abide by, preferring instead to give the responsibility to the kids to keep this place running.

And for the most part, he decided smugly, it worked.

For three days now the smell had been lurking in one of the rooms on the first floor. But this was Christmas, his busiest time. Kids from all over the state were coming into the city to purge on the good will of shoppers and they usually ended up at his place. But this was too much. Some of the kids were complaining about the smell and when he knew for a fact that most of his patrons hadn't touched a bar of soap in over a year, for them to be complaining he knew enough was enough.

As he stepped up the wide staircase to the first floor he found the smell stronger and nauseating. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth to hold the smell back but it did little to affect the stench.

He checked the roster in his hand and saw only three of the rooms were occupied. All the other kids had signed out for the early morning rush into the city. When he knocked on the first door a small kid of about fifteen, opened it swiftly- he also held his shirt over his nose and mouth,

"You know what that smell is Miguel?" James asked.

"No sir!" he said with a cough. "But whatever it is you need to find it now, it's making me ill!"

"Open the window in there!" James called as he moved further up the hall.

A girl who had a scarf tied around her face opened the second door just as quickly this time.

"You gonna fix the smell Jimmy?" she called out as he turned to leave.

"Trying. Open the window in there, it might help."

"You kiddin? It's minus thirty out there!" she said looking out at the snow-covered window.

"Die of the cold or die of the smell?"

"Great choice!" she called after him as he ventured further on.

The final occupied room was at the end of the hall but James had to stop as he came closer. The reek was overpowering, making his eyes water and forcing bile up to his throat threatening an exodus from his body.

"Oh Christ…" he muttered, pulling his tee shirt up tighter and trying to hold his breath. He checked the roster and knocked on the door with his elbow. "Jonathan Blake?" he called out with a strained voice but there was no reply. He knocked again, this time louder and fumbled for the set of keys in his pocket.

"Jonathan Blake? If you don't answer I'm coming in," he shouted, shaking the right key loose, to let him know it wasn't an empty threat.

After another moment of silence James slid the key into the lock and twisted it to the left. As he heard the bolt slide out, he listened to the room for another minute to see if he could hear anybody. There was nothing.

He pushed the door opened slowly and stepped into the room. With his feet glued to the spot and mouth open, he stared down at the remains of the room's occupant naked on the wood floor. Jonathan's body was twisted and contorted as if he had fallen from a great height. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling but they were gray and clouded. Slash marks on his wrists gaped open, exposing veins ripped so completely that the blood had poured out and pooled in strange concentric circles beneath each hand.

"Oh my god!" James cried, covering his mouth from the stench as his eyes watered painfully.


	6. Chapter 6

Dulles Airport

**Thursday**

**30****th**** Dec 11.35AM**

Scully stood at the arrivals entrance and checked the screens for David's flight. Seeing it had just landed, she hurried along the concourse to gate 14 and waited for him to emerge. Stifling a yawn, she pressed her hand to her mouth to cover it but her weariness was too much. She hadn't slept much over the Christmas break and not at all last night.

After Mulder had stormed out she contemplated following him but let him be. Preferring him to come back of his own accord rather than being dragged by her. She was desperately worried about him though. She had busied herself with household chores, carrying on as normal as if he'd never came back to DC, all the while her mind playing tricks on her as she imagined his key in the door or his footsteps in the hall.

The clock was creeping past three am when he finally came home. With the lack of stealth of a man who'd been drinking since lunch, he crept clumsily through the living room and collapsed onto the couch. She heard him shuffling about the room as he tried to get his bedclothes sorted, then the silence as he fell into a deep drunken sleep.

At 4am, she crept out to check on him and found him fully dressed, complete with overcoat, wrapped uncomfortably in a sheet, half on the couch and half on the floor.

The stale stench of whiskey stained the air mixed along with cigarettes and the sleazy atmosphere from whatever bar he had ended up in. She contemplated moving him onto the couch, rousing him enough to get his coat and shoes off but decided against it. She wasn't about to pander to his drunken binges. She checked his breathing once more and managed to flip him onto his side so he wouldn't choke before leaving him to it and returning to bed.

At 10am when she emerged fully dressed from her room she saw he hadn't moved an inch. She ate a quick breakfast, resentfully sneaking around in her own house and hurried out to the airport.

Through the bristling holiday travelers at Dulles she spotted David's tall figure ambling behind an elderly couple. He looked up and smiled warmly at her and for a moment she pushed her bad mood away, to smile at him.

"Merry Christmas Dana," he said as he dropped his bags to the floor and hugged her.

"Merry Christmas."

"Although I can tell by the red rimmed eyes and slumped shoulders it hasn't exactly been merry." He held her away from him for a moment, his grip tightening on her shoulders. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Urging him not to push she wriggled away from his hands and gestured for him to follow. "How was Boston?"

"Damn cold." He slung his bag over his shoulder and she caught sight of his holstered weapon. He saw her eyes lock onto it and smiled. "In retrospect staying in Boston till I had to return to work wasn't such a great idea. I would love nothing more than to go home to bed now! Janet has another night with her parents and she's flying in tomorrow."

"Doesn't feel all that long ago since we came off duty. So much for a restful Christmas." She paid for her parking ticket and they hurried through the biting wind to the car. Once it was unlocked David practically threw his bags into the boot and jumped in beside her, rubbing his hands together and blowing hot air into them.

"How is he?" he asked as she started the engine and he reached for the heating vents, willing them to warm up faster.

"He's…he's…changed." She admitted finally. The thought that had been lurking in her mind ever since Christmas Eve, ever since she met him in Seattle even, finally found credence in her voice.

"For the worse?"

"Just… changed."

The traffic was manic through the streets of DC. It seemed like everyone had decided to end their Christmas vacation on the same day. Eventually they managed to get to the Hoover building and walked through the heated halls to their shared office.

The bullpen was already full with the other agents who'd ventured in today and as David went to get some coffee, Scully sat into her chair, dropping her head into her hands, jumping up when the phone rang loudly in the silent room.

"Agent Scully," she said curtly.

"Agent Scully, AD Jackson would like to see you in his office as soon as possible."

"Okay. We'll be right there." She stood up as David walked in and passed her a coffee. "Jackson wants to see us."

Sipping her coffee quickly, she left it on the desk and started towards the door, David right behind her.

"It's only the first day back. We can't be in trouble already!"

They crossed through the bullpen and walked into the waiting area beside Jackson's Secretary, who waved them right in. Scully pushed the door open with a little knock.

"Sir?" she said and looked around the room to see AD Jackson standing at the large conference table rather than his own desk.

"Agent Scully, come in," he shook her hand and urged her into the chair beside him. "Agent McLane."

"Sir. Merry Christmas." David shook hands with him before sitting down in the proffered seat.

"Are either of you familiar with the 3rd street Hostel?"

"That's a homeless shelter for street kids," Scully offered immediately. Her church had often held fundraising drives for it.

"This morning the proprietor discovered a body in one of the rooms." Jackson shuffled through the pages on his desk and pulled out an A4-sized photo of a male teenager. "Jonathan Blake aged 16. His wrists were cut and his body posed in macabre fashion."

"Suicide?" David asked looking down at the photo of the surly teen.

"Cops thought that this morning. Until the coroner found ligature marks on his neck and mouth. He had lost a lot of blood from his wrist wounds but it looks like he actually died from asphyxiation."

"Someone murdered him?" David asked sliding the crime scene photo closer. "What makes this a federal case?"

"Nothing. Yet." Jackson said quietly. "The Hostel is privately run and funded by local charity drives. The kids are mainly transients and street kids no one has claimed, or is looking for."

"Sir?" David wasn't sure why they were called to this meeting. One thing he knew though was that it was about to turn into a long day.

"I got a call from Detective Ellis. He was first on the scene." Jackson's voice was low and tired. It seemed to be taking more effort than usual to talk about the case. "He's afraid that a cult might be operating in the neighborhood."

"One victim isn't exactly a cult," David countered.

"No, but three could be."

"Three?" Scully sat up and shared an uneasy glance with David.

"The MO is the same in every instance. The victim is held down, choked and wrists slit." He passed the respective files out to both of them and gave them a moment to leaf through them.

"There's too much blood spill for this wound to be post mortem," Scully said pointing at the crime scene picture.

"No, but if the wounds were inflicted before he was choked, and held down until he died?"

"Would that take more then one person?" David asked the room.

"If this is some sort of cult then it makes it a federal case." Jackson looked between them both for a while. "I told Detective Ellis you would go and speak with him after lunch."

"Yes sir."

The agents stood up and Jackson gathered the case files together. He handed it to David and looked over at Scully.

"Agent Scully, can I speak with you a moment?"

David looked over to her and with a little nod he turned and left the room.

"What is it sir?

"I spoke with AD Skinner this morning."

"Oh?" She feigned surprise but she'd been sure this would happen sooner or later.

"He told me about Agent Mulder."

"He's not a federal agent anymore sir."

"No, but he is back?"

"Yes sir."

"I understand the situation," he began.

NO YOU DON'T! Scully wanted to scream but she managed to hold it all back.

"So if you require some additional time off please feel free to ask. You have more than enough time saved up to take a couple of weeks extended vacation."

"No thank you sir. I'd rather keep working."

"Of course," he said, disguising his discomfort with a small cough. "Well as long as you know the option is there for you."

With a curt nod Scully turned and left the room, hurrying back to the office. David looked up when she came in but opted not to say a word. Instead he spread the case file out in front of him and logged onto his PC. The day dragged by in a tense, monotonous silence that filled the whole room.

Scully called the coroner for a fax copy of the autopsy and spent the morning immersed in the report, while David called Detective Ellis and arranged a meeting for that afternoon.

As the time to leave arrived, David stood and pulled on his overcoat. So immersed in the autopsy report, Scully didn't notice his approach until he rested a hand on her shoulder, making her jump.

"You ready to go?"

"Where?" she looked up to the clock.

"To meet Detective Ellis?"

"Of course, yes, I'm ready." She stood and grabbed her coat off the stand leading the way out to the garage. David wanted to suggest that he go alone but the deep frown that was ensconced on her face made him back away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Scully's Apartment.**

**Thursday**

**30****th**** Dec. 4.30**

Mulder lifted his head off the cushion and tried desperately to ignore the pounding in his head. He managed to kick the blanket off and lever his legs over the side of the couch but everything started to swim and he gripped the cushion to steady himself, but landed on the floor despite himself.

He peeled off his crumpled overcoat and dropped it on the floor behind him as he stumbled across the hall to the bath room. The bright lights stung his eyes and shot piercing needles of red-hot pain into his head but he persevered. His eyes had closed to mere slits as he stood above the toilet, one hand holding the wall while the other tried not to make a mess.

He had no idea what time it was, what day even and it became a struggle to remember where he was. As he flushed and washed he looked up to the mirror and glanced at his haggard features. His eyes were tired and red, watering over with weariness. His hair was grimy and stuck to his head, several cow licks stood up strangely on the back of his head and he blamed the pillow for his errant look. His face was rough with stubble dusting across his chin and cheeks, making him look as old as he felt, he realized with a chuckle as he reached past the shower curtain to switch on the hot water.

After shedding his clothes and testing the water, he stepped in and stood beneath it. He leaned back against the tiles, gasping in shock at the jolt of cold that blasted his skin but he didn't have the strength to move. The water cascaded over his head, and he tried to relax under the calming flow. Shaking his head out of the spray, he lifted his hand up to brace it off the wall and caught sight of the red scar on his arm. He looked down at it disgustedly before tearing his eyes away.

Slowly, languidly he washed himself down and shampooed his hair. It took longer then he expected but it had the desired effect. As he stepped out of the shower he felt stronger, more aware of his surroundings. He shaved and rinsed his face off, and slapped on a little cologne.

"Could be worse," he muttered to himself as he pulled a towel from the rack and tied it around his waist. A whoosh of cold air greeted him as he pulled the bathroom door open and stepped into the hallway. He was running his hand over his chest, gently touching the tender scar left there. _New bandages_ he realized. It had been days since he'd changed the old ones and he knew the wounds were too fresh to be left unattended and would probably get a telling off from Scully for letting it get wet under the shower.

As he stepped into the living room he froze at the sound of a key in the door. With one hand resting on his chest and the other holding his towel up, he watched the handle as it turned. Scully stepped through slowly, not looking around or seeing him until she slipped out of her jacket and closed the door behind her.

The first thing he noticed was how tired she looked. Her clothes and hair were perfect but her eyes; he could tell even from across the room, were red and sore. Something he knew he was probably the cause of.

She avoided his gaze training her eyes on the floor slowly moving up his body until she spotted the angry wound on the upper left side of his torso.

"You need a new bandage?"

"Yeah." He found the power to move his legs again, so clutching the towel tightly around his waist he stepped around the couch and grabbed his luggage. As he rummaged through it to get some clean clothes she called out to him from the kitchen. He pulled out his stuff and walked over to the kitchen table where she was opening the first aid box.

"Sit down," she said without looking at him. He sat sideways on the chair leaning his shoulder against the back, bending his head over to look at his feet. Gently her fingers probed the area on his back around the edge of the wound and it was with a little jolt he felt at the cold shock of the cream she applied.

After carefully rubbing on the cream she taped a small bandage over it and slowly moved around to face him. His eyes were still glued to the floor so with only a little hesitation, she reached out to touch his cheek. He jerked at her touch and she quickly withdrew her hand.

"Mulder?" she said softly, wondering if she should leave him be or keep talking to him.

Slowly his head moved up and he looked up at her. Through unshed tears and squinted eyes he saw the features of her face change from expectant to pitiful.

"Mulder?" she said again. "What is it?"

His hands reached out and snaked around her waist pulling her closer. The tenderness she showed him, the gentle caress of her fingers and the soft lilt in her voice when she said his name bulldozed through his barricades and penetrated right to the center he thought he had guarded so well.

"Oh Mulder," she said as she held his head against her stomach and stroked his hair.

"I can't do it Scully." He murmured into her blouse. "I thought I could, but I can't."

"Do what Mulder?" her fingers froze on his head and without realizing it her grip tightened, pressing him closer to her torso.

"I can't do it anymore. It hurts so much."

Scully pulled his arms from around her and pushed him back into the chair. She knelt before him and rested her hands on his bare hips.

"Mulder look at me," her hands squeezed him and his head turned to her, the tears falling now from his weary red eyes. "Mulder you have to tell me now. You have to tell me what you want."

"I want…I want…" his eyes pleaded with her, pleaded to be set free, to be let loose to run and hide again.

"What is it?" she urged him to continue.

"I want you." His voice was so low that she barely heard it.

"Is that why you are here?" her hands started to move away from him as she leaned back and pushed up onto the balls of her feet, but his hands clasped tightly around her forearms before she could move back any further.

"It's why I came back." He edged towards the end of the chair and closed his knees against her. "I want you."

"Mulder-"

"No Scully," he persisted, shaking his head from side to side to interrupt her. "Ever since I saw you in Seattle I knew I couldn't run anymore."

"Mulder, stop." She brushed his hands away and stood up. Turning her back to him, she walked across the kitchen to the sink, where she could hear his bare feet padding across the tiled floor behind her.

"I'm not talking about sex," he blurted out, touching her arm and turning her around. "I'm talking about you."

"You can't do this for me; you can't go through this for me" She said angrily. "It doesn't work that way, you need to do it for yourself."

"I thought I could come back here, and we could do this together…but it doesn't work that way either."

"I am here for you Mulder," she said, but his head was shaking again. His eyes flared with a burst of anger.

"Don't you see?" His grip on her arm tightened. "I know you are, that's why I'm here, that's why I came back. But you can't go through this with me; you can't see what I see, know what I know and feel what I feel."

His eyes were wide and desperate and her arm was starting to hurt. His knuckles were white with the pressure he was exerting onto her.

"I thought I could do it, but I don't want to see it or hear it anymore. I don't want to feel it anymore. I don't want to feel." Fresh tears tumbled over his cheeks and fell onto his bare chest. "I can't."

He released her with a little push and grabbed his jeans off the table. He dropped the towel, not caring about his nudity and pulled them on, then slipped on a black tee shirt. His sneakers were by the couch and he hurried over to pull them on without tying the laces. He was grabbing his jacket off the floor when she finally spoke, her hand on his back.

"Mulder where are you going." It wasn't a question but more a statement of his lack of choices and how he always seemed to choose to run.

"I'm…I'm going."

"You can't do this!" she urged forgetting all the platitudes she had been silently repeating. She grabbed him and turned him to face her. Suddenly it wasn't about him, it wasn't about saving him from a life of running. It all turned round to face her. Her need to help him, to heal him, to hold him.

"Watch me."

Suddenly his voice was low and callous. His eyes were dark and frowning as he looked over her then turned to walk away.

"Mulder, No!" she called out trying to pull him back, her arm gripping his but he shrugged her away and left.

Washington Coast Line

**Thursday**

**30****th**** Dec 5.20PM**

Jessica King rolled over and over down the sand dune, her hair whipping around her face covering her eyes and going into her mouth. But she didn't care. She loved it. Sky melted into sand into sky and then sand again as the sound of her laughter roared in her ears, curling into a bubbly mirth when she finally stopped rolling. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, her laughter taking over her lungs and body.

"WHOOOOO!" she screamed into the air, thrusting her hands up to the sky. Her eyes caught sight of the dragon tattoo on the inside of her left forearm and she reached over with her right hand to wipe the blood away. The open straight wound on her wrist was gushing more blood then she expected but it wasn't a concern for her right now she mused with a smile.

Jessica sat up and buried her hands into the sand behind her, digging her fingers in deep as she pushed her self up and turned to face the sea. The winter waves crashed against the shore, frothily kicking up as they receded back again.

With a final glance down to her wrists she clenched her fists and watched as her blood flowed faster and thicker from the open gash. With a wild laugh she threw her arms out to her side and raced for the water. Like an airplane caught in an updraft she weaved across the sand and plunged into the salt water, diving below the freezing surface.

The sting was horrendous and excruciating but she pushed the sensation away as she emerged from the water her eyes closed, arms out and face turned up at the sky.

"Heal me, O LORD," she shouted to the sky. "And I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise."

The sky darkened with stormy clouds and she opened her eyes as she pulled her arms in closer to her chest. Turning her hands over she watched as the skin seemed to move and squirm. The blood receded up her arm over the tattoo taking the design with it. The dragon swam across her arm twirling and spinning across her skin, fading into nothing. The wound seemed to suck up the remains of the blood before joining in the middle and melding into a thin red line.

"Yes!" she screamed into the sky, slapping her hands on the sea's surface and jumping up over the waves. ""O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee forever," she roared into the cloudy sky as large rain drops started to fall onto her face. The flicker of the lightening overhead suddenly shimmered and changed before her and the cold frothing water around her disappeared, replaced by the warm sensation of the shower from above.

She opened her eyes to find herself back in the bed, kneeling on the white sheets. The room was dimly lit and she could make out the other beds.

"Oh my god, it worked!" she said, laughing through her tears that slid over her cheeks. "It worked." She held her arms out in front of her, her elbows touching and her palms open. Her tattoo was gone but the jagged gash that marred her skin was bleeding profusely.

From the shadows of the room, a mysterious figure stepped towards her and rested a hand gently on her back. Jessica slowly turned her head to watch the familiar silhouette step closer, lifting one leg into the bed beside her then the other.

"Save me, and I shall be saved:" Jessica began softly, "for thou art my praise, save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise,"


	8. Chapter 8

**McGinty's Bar**

**Thursday **

**30****th**** Dec 10.50PM**

The smell of the whisky tinged with the stale stench of sweat almost propelled her back through the open bar door, but instead she stepped through the smoky air and let the door close behind her. Ignoring the curious glances from the men who littered the room she strode along the bar, weaving through the tables until she spotted him.

Sitting on a high stool, his chin was resting on his hands, as his elbows leaning on the bar amidst a row of upturned shot glasses. One glass in front of his nose was full and awaiting his attention but he just stared vacantly at it. Approaching carefully, Scully stood behind him for a moment then reached out to touch his back. She hesitated, her hand hovering over his shoulder, trembling, finally pulling it back to her side. All the times she felt his hand on her back, her arm, her shoulder, all of a sudden meant something more. Something she'd felt she would never experience again. And at that moment she felt that he would never return. He would never heal.

"Mulder?" she said softly, hoping not to startle him. Loud country music played in the bar, disguising her voice so she spoke a little louder. "Mulder."

Without lifting his head he turned to the side to see her watching him. "Go away," he mumbled turning back to his drink.

"C'mon Mulder, let me take you home."

"No. Get out of here. Leave me alone." He looked over at her again as if to check that she was leaving.

Scully waited for him to face her fully but his chin returned to his hands and his eyes to their vigil of the shot glass. She slipped in between the stools and sat next to him, sitting sideways to face him fully. Her feet barely reached the step, her elbow that rested on the bar was in a puddle of some unidentifiable liquid, but she pushed all those thoughts out of her mind and watched him.

For ages he did nothing. His eyes were unmoving as he watched the amber liquid in the glass before him. Then without warning he sat up like a shot, grabbed his drink and threw it down his throat. Slamming the glass upside-down onto the counter, he pulled his coat from the chair beside him and stalked haphazardly out of the bar.

In the cold, snow-threatening air outside, he fixed his coat collar up around his neck and winced into the night. In his pocket the car keys poked into his hip and he could see his car parked at the corner of the block.

_With any luck_, he mused, _he'd crash the car and finally it would be over_.

"Don't even think about it."

She stood behind him, her arms folded across her chest, a deep frown on her face.

"You still here?" he coughed into his hand, hugging one arm across his chest where his lungs ached from the biting wind.

"I'm not going anywhere Mulder."

He hadn't waited for her reply as he staggered away up the footpath in the opposite direction of his car. She hurried after him and walked by his side.

"Get out of here Scully!" he muttered angrily through gritted teeth.

"And then what?" she barked back. "You want to take a drive? Run a red light? Kill someone?"

"Just leave it! I want to be alone."

"You know what Mulder," she shouted back to him angrily. "You've had four years alone. You can't spend the rest of your life alone."

"Can't I?" he countered with a sneer.

"Is that why you came back to DC? To be alone?" He stopped short, what sounded like a sob caught in his throat.

"It was a mistake. I shouldn't have come back here."

"No Mulder, it wasn't a mistake." Her voice softened. "But it is hard. It's going to be the hardest thing you will ever have to do."

"Don't you think I know that?" his pace quickened and he knew she'd have trouble keeping up with his long strides, especially on the icy footpath.

"Is that why you are quitting?" she called after him.

He turned to see her standing a couple of yards behind him. Her nose and cheeks were red with the cold and her chin shivered in time with her chattering teeth. Her hands were buried deep into her pockets, soaking up whatever heat they could.

"Quit?" He said quietly. "You have to try before you can quit."

"You can't quit now Mulder," her voice melting through the cold air. "You've only just begun."

"I can't do it." He whispered into the night. She walked over to him and put a hand on his arm, immediately regretting touching him as his shoulder tensed and he pulled away from her. "God help me….I can't," he repeated.

Face to face with the battle she was fighting to keep the tears and emotions under control, she almost lost her resolve.

"You can. I know you can. I can help you."

"Help me?" he laughed a crazy bark of mirth that released a few salty droplets from his eyes. "Help me understand what happened to me? How he abused me? Tortured me? Raped me? You can help me understand that?" He tried to ignore the tears that fell over his cheeks, which trailed their way down his face to drop onto his tee shirt collar as his incredulity died down and left only anger. "I don't think I want to understand."

He turned his back to her and started to walk away but she grabbed his elbow and pulled him back towards her.

"Leave me alone!" he shouted swinging back in anger with his arm flung out wide, hitting her on the cheek with the back of his hand.

The sound of the smack stunned them both into silence, frozen in position, facing each other in shock. Her cheek was stinging and hot where his hand had connected, but she was afraid to touch it. To press the tender skin and fell the sharper tingling pain would be to make it real.

He watched in horror as the damning shape of his fingers appeared on her cheek and temple. He had only meant to shrug her away but there it was, reddening on her cheek the undisputable consequence of his hand. Her eyes were wide and glassy with unspent tears, the cold forgotten as she stared at him with her mouth slightly open and her body deathly still. Small puffs of cold air escaped past her lips in short shallow breaths.

The apology was on his lips but it sounded so contrite and forced that it died there. Suddenly his legs came to life as he backed away from her. He turned and ambled away into the night, almost stumbling, his mind reeling with thoughts too fast to grasp as his feet tried to catch up.

Scully watched him disappear into the blackness of the city. It took a moment more before the cold reclaimed her senses as she shivered now from both shock and the low temperatures. The sound of her cell phone ringing didn't register immediately. When finally the sound cut through the fog of her senses she pulled it out of her pocket and answered it.

"Hello."

"Dana, its David."

"What is it?"

"Another body."

"Where?" she turned towards the car and pulled out the spare keys.

"St Benedict's hostel on Wilson Drive."

"Okay I'll meet you there."

**St Benedict's Hostel**

**Thursday **

**30****th**** Dec 11.20PM**

David McLane stood at the entrance to the hostel and pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. The snow had been falling steadily for the best part of an hour, covering all surfaces in a slick dirty white slush that seemed to find its way into his shoes.

His gloved hands held his notebook as he took the details from Detective Ellis, who was first on the murder scene. It was almost a mirror image of the previous murder scene they'd visited already that day, bringing with every familiar detail, an uncomfortable sinking heavy sensation in David's chest.

He spotted her car pulling up across the street and excused himself from the detective. Folding his notebook into his pocket, he descended the entrance steps and stood by the curb but she didn't seem to be climbing out of the car. Her hands were holding the steering wheel tightly and she sat unmoving, staring straight ahead. David checked the traffic and hurried across the street. Bending low he gently rapped on the window.

Startled she turned to face him and by now he'd spotted the tears that stained her face. Immediately David pulled the door open and leaned in closer to her.

"Dana?" he asked. "What's wrong? What happened?" He moved away from the car as she undid her belt and climbed out.

"Nothing David. I'm just tired." She was instantly grateful for the flashing police lights that disguised the red swollen mark on her right cheek. Keeping half turned away from him she stared at the building and started to walk over to it. "What happened here?"

For a moment David said nothing, and then followed her closely, relaying all the details he collected.

"She was found in the bathroom. Her wrists had been slashed and it looks like she was strangled with a cord from a bathrobe."

"Is it the same MO?" Scully asked, moving her personal thoughts aside as she slipped into her FBI façade.

"All the details match. The hostel, street kids, slashed wrists but probable death from asphyxiation."

"Is the body still up there?" They stood at the bottom of the entrance stairs.

"No I had her moved to Quantico. Do you want to do the autopsy or should I call Dr Cassidy?"

"No I'd prefer to do it." She glanced up and down the street, anything but look at David. "Who found the body?"

"The night manager. He's at the precinct. Detective Ellis sent him there about half an hour ago. I haven't spoken to him yet, I was about to go see him."

"I just want to check the scene and then I'll go straight out to Quantico." She hurried up the rest of the stairs and stood in the doorway. Forgetting how well lit it was, she turned back to smile some reassurance at her partner, but as his features turned to stone and he ran up behind her, she realized her mistake. He took her arm gruffly and led her over to the elevator.

"David, what are you doing?" she whispered angrily, startled by his forcefulness, but his grip was tight enough to hold her without making a scene in front of half the 51st street precinct officers.

"Did he do that?" His voice was measured barely contained rage. His eyes glared with a fury Scully had never seen. Then in contrast, gentle hands held her chin and moved her head to the side. The red mark was clearly visible and you didn't have to be a forensic scientist to make out the distinctive finger marks. It reached from her temple at the corner of her right eye to the center of her cheek. "Did he do that?"

"David, it was an accident," she began, hearing the words and not believing they were coming from her.

David scoffed and shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe you Dana." He said, his hands clenching his hips and his eyes rolling heavenward.

"It has nothing to do with you David. Just drop it." She tried to step around him but he blocked her way.

"Dana it has everything to do with me." She looked at him and saw not the rage she was expecting but instead a tender expression. "I care about you a lot. And I'm not about to stand by while this guy comes in and hurts you."

"He's not just some guy David!"

"Just because you knew him a long time ago doesn't make it okay for him to hurt you." He replied quickly "I don't care if he's your brother! I won't stand by while anyone hurts you."

"Just leave it David, please." Her voice was low and weary. "It was an accident, it's never happened before and it never will again." She looked up to him with pleading eyes, urging him to drop it. Eventually he stepped aside and she slipped by him to hurry up the stairs to the murder scene on the second floor.

David leaned back against the wall and tried to unclench his fists but they were balled up too tightly. Blood coursed through his body too fast to allow him to calm down, and all he felt was the rage building higher and harder.

"Sorry Dana. I can't just leave it." He pushed off the wall and walked out to his car. A quick mental calculation told him she would be at Quantico for up to three hours. He glanced at his watch and smiled. "That should be enough time."


	9. Chapter 9

**Scully's Apartment.**

**Friday**

**31****st**** Dec 12.03AM**

Fox Mulder stood at the curb and looked up to the dark empty apartment. She wasn't home. He wondered briefly if she was looking for him but decided with a mirthless laugh that after what he'd done, it was unlikely. It was an accident but he'd still struck her. Another mistake and another reason he ought to end things. He lifted the paper covered bottle to his lips and took a deep swig, ignoring the overspill that ran down his neck and stained the already grimy collar of his shirt, even the foul taste of the cheap whiskey wasn't enough to make him stop.

So intent was he on finishing the bottle off he didn't hear the car door slamming shut across the street. The fallen snow muffled the footsteps and it wasn't until a heavy hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around that he saw David.

"David, little late for house calls isn't it?" Mulder slurred drunkenly, already knowing why he was here.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" David said through his teeth, gripping Mulder's lapels and pulling him closer. There was little difference between their heights so it was easy for David to hold him.

"Excuse me?"

"You're some piece of work Mulder. Coming back out of the blue like this. Treating her like shit."

"I never meant to hurt-" Mulder garbled defensively.

"No. You never do. And yet you seem so good at it." David shoved him back and watched him stumble to the ground, the bottle falling from his hand and hitting the snow covered grass with a muffled thud, rolling to the curb. David slowly reached down and picked it up "Why did you come back Mulder? Didn't dig the knife in deep enough in Seattle?"

"I didn't mean to hurt her." Mulder got to his feet and with his head bent he glared sideways at David.

"But you did. You hurt her when you left; you hurt her in Seattle and now your doing it again. Only you're not content with breaking her heart anymore. So you punched her?" David threw the bottle to the ground and enjoyed the loud smashing noise it made on the asphalt.

"I didn't!" Mulder shouted back. "It was an accident; I didn't realize she was standing so close behind me."

"Did you enjoy it Mulder?" David stepped closer and pushed his face into Mulder's. "Did you enjoy hitting her? Is that how it works for you now?" David's words whispered angrily into the swaying man's face, spitting as he forced his anger out. "I checked on your file Mulder, I know what happened to you."

"Fuck you," Mulder roared back as he tried to push David away but his grip was too strong. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough." David tightened his grip further and shook Mulder gruffly. "If you ever touch her again, by accident, on purpose, or even think about it I will come down on you so hard you won't ever forget it!"

A threatening silence hung between them for a moment then David pushed him to the ground. He stood over Mulder fallen body for a moment longer, sneering down at him in disgust before turning to walk away.

"You don't know anything David. You think she'll love you for this?" Mulder roared as he shuffled to his feet and somehow pulled himself up to his full height.

David laughed back his reply, turning to see Mulder standing so defiantly in the snow. His hair was wet and planted to his head making him look sorrier than David had ever seen him

"Love me?" he walked back towards Mulder and smiled. "I don't need to force her to love me Mulder. See I value her friendship. I know she cares about me and she trusts me. More than I can say about the pity she feels for you."

Mulder stared back at him angrily. Angry at the stinging words that he believed were so true. He needed to be punished, to feel the physical pain, anything to get rid of the dark aching in his chest that was threatening to overwhelm him. So he pushed David further.

"Maybe, but do you honestly think she won't forgive me for this?" he taunted as he curved his lips into a sardonic smile.

"Fuck you Mulder!" David said softly before whipping his fist towards him and connecting the uppercut just below his chin. Although he was expecting the retaliation, Mulder wasn't ready for the force of the punch that knocked him to the ground. He spat the blood out into the snow and touched a loose tooth with his tongue. Touching his jaw tenderly he turned to see David standing ready for him to swing back.

Mulder got to his feet again and rotated his jaw again, tilting his head from side to side.

"Nice swing," he muttered before rushing over and tackling David to the ground. They landed with a soft oomph, but David swung his legs around Mulder's and rolled over, forcing the unsteady former FBI man to slide beneath so he could sit on top of him. Mulder's hands shot up and punched David in the face but it was too soft and uncontrolled to do any damage.

David reared up and slammed his fist into Mulder's face again, then into the side of his chest. Mulder took the beating like a penance, putting up only cursory defense. They were both oblivious to the car that pulled up alongside them.

Scully saw what was going on and jumped out of the barely parked car. Shouting for David to stop as she raced over to them, but he didn't until she all but dragged him off of Mulder.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she roared at David who was scrambling to his feet and lunging again towards Mulder. Scully put her hands on his chest, silently imploring him to step back. He looked down at her still red, swollen cheek and fought back the rage that built inside him.

Mulder managed to get to his feet and stood swaying on the icy lawn glaring at them both. Bloody and tearstained, one eye almost swollen shut and holding his chest. The silent communication that passed between them hurt him more then any punch David had thrown.

"Mulder, go inside." She called over her shoulder, her hands still on David's chest and her eyes still locked dangerously with his. "Go Inside now!"

He didn't move for a minute, and then finally his heavy feet trudged through the snow and up the few steps to her apartment. After unlocking the door he stepped into the darkened room and moved slowly over to the window. Peering down outside, he watched with a sinking heart as David leaned down and kissed Scully softly before enveloping her in a tight embrace. Mulder turned away. He felt sick. He peeled off his wet clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket in the kitchen, then trudged with heavy legs to the shower.

Scully let David hold her for a moment, knowing the threat he was feeling. When eventually he held her away from him and his eyes fell again to her reddened cheek, she stepped back from him.

"What the hell were you doing?" Her fury made him wince but she didn't care.

David said nothing. He looked down at her and all he could see was the mark on her face. He didn't trust himself to say anything.

"Go home David." She tried not to be angry at the way he had hunted Mulder down and attacked him but she couldn't help it. She never asked for his protection, she thought irritably to herself, and she didn't want it.

"Are you sure?" He glanced up to the apartment.

"Of course. I can handle him."

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning." He added hopefully but she was already turned away from him heading to her apartment. He walked back to his car and left.

Scully took a few moments to compose herself then slowly let herself into her apartment. The lights were all off but she could hear the shower running. The stale stench of alcohol was in the air and she shook her head in dismay. Maybe it was going to be too hard. Maybe she couldn't help him. Doubts circled her head, taunting her efforts to keep strong.

She shed her jacket and hung it up carefully on the rack. Lighting only the corner lamp she sank heavily into the sofa and waited for him to return. She listened to the shower then heard it switch off. The apartment was silent for a few moments and she imagined him standing in front of the mirror, looking at his scars, the fresh marks on his face.

Mulder braced his hands on the sink and was standing exactly where she imagined he was. He brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth out before opening it wide in front of the mirror to examine his teeth. He had managed to bite his cheek in the fight and it was still bleeding. The bullet wound on his chest was painful, seeping blood; it looked raw and angry and his face ached from the punching he'd taken. The pain felt almost good.

He looked into the mirror again and his eyes fixed on the swollen lump just below his eyes where David had connected his hardest punch. He probed it with two fingers and winced at the pain, but it wasn't enough to dull the plummeting ache in his heart at the image of her matching welt.

He'd hit her. Scully.

Knowing she'd be out there waiting for him he pulled a towel off the rack and tied it around his waist. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair then walked out of the bathroom. He saw her immediately sitting on the couch with her back to him, but by the way her shoulders stiffened he knew she realized he was there.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping around her couch and perching on the edge of the armchair. She followed him with her eyes but refused to look directly at him.

"Hey."

"Scully I-" he started but she interrupted him before he could finish.

"Don't Mulder, please don't," she said turning to face him more. "I can't sit here and listen to…" her eyes fell from his face and looked down to the seeping wound on his chest. "Oh Mulder look at your chest!"

Jumping up she hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the first aid kit that had been left there earlier. She came back and sat on the table in front of him and pushed him back into the chair. He struggled to keep the towel around his waist and kept his knees together to save what little dignity he could muster.

She cleaned his wound and applied a small film of antiseptic cream before carefully covered it with a thick dressing. Standing up she stood behind his chair and pushed him forward to do the same for the wound on his back.

"Is it sore?" she asked as she applied the last piece of tape to the dressing.

"A little."

"You have to be more careful Mulder, you can't get this infected or you'll end up back in hospital," she lectured angrily. "Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not."

"Then for god sake will you wake up." She gathered up the first aid stuff and went back to the kitchen to pack it away. He followed behind her and gently rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Scully," he said and slowly he turned her to face him. He looked over at her cheek and regret overwhelmed him. "Scully I'm so sorry." Tenderly he brushed his hand over her cheek and slowly rubbed the pad of his thumb over it "I'm so sorry." His hand cupped her cheek then moved down to circle her neck.

"Forget it Mulder, it was an accident." She said but her voice was trembling with emotion.

"I wish I could forget it. I wish I could forget a lot of things." His eyes became distant and unfocused. "I'm so sorry." His head bent low and she saw the tears threatening to fall onto his chest.

She touched his scraped chin and forced him to look up to her. Both their eyes brimming with tears, both their faces red and swollen and both their hearts sinking under the heavy emotional strain.

They came together by consensus; the hug was fierce and tight, both of them drawing as much strength as they could from it. His hands held her against him, one appropriately resting on the small of her back and the other buried in her hair holding her head against his damp chest. She had her hands splayed out on his back, her fingers pressing hard into him, leaving small round white marks.

He lowered his head and rested it on the crook of her neck not caring that she could feel his tears or the sorrow racking his chest. The warmth she provided was enough to chase those ghosts away for now. Like that night in Seattle, that seemed a lifetime ago, suddenly he wasn't too afraid anymore.

When their breathing slowed and their tears dried up she loosened her grip and felt him do the same. But he didn't move, instead his hands joined at the small of her back and suddenly the air changed. Without either of them comprehending it an electric charge exploded between them.

Mulder felt it curling the hairs on his arms pushing goosebumps to the surface of his skin and sending a chill down his spine. He couldn't help himself. His lips gently brushed the soft skin where her shoulder met her neck and he felt her shiver beneath him. Her hands moved down his back and encircled his waist. He couldn't stop himself, his lips moved without him, caressing her neck and traveling slowly towards her ear.

She moved her head slightly to the side as he kissed her lobe. Nipping it gently he basked in the soft moan that escaped her lips. His arms tightened around her waist and he pulled her closer, bending her back a little to cover her neck in soft tender kisses. His hands roamed over her back and slipped under the hem of her blouse to caress the soft warm skin beneath.

Before he could stop himself they roamed around to her stomach and gradually made their way up to her breasts where they strained against the constrictive material of her blouse. His lips found hers as she kissed him back. Their tongues crashing hungrily against each other in the warm wet security of her mouth. His fingers hurriedly opened her blouse and pushed it back over her shoulders, trapping her hands behind her where his hands clasped them both. He broke the kiss and stared down her. Both of them panted softly, all traces of their tears chased away.

Their eyes locked.

Mulder pulled the blouse off her and tossed it to the floor then he cupped her face with his hands before kissing her again, this time languidly. Her hands were on his waist, her fingers ran along the edge of the towel, and then traced soft lines up the middle of his back.

He gasped into her mouth standing on the balls of his feet as his skin tingled with pleasure. As he unzipped her slacks and pushed it over her hips, she traced her fingers over his shoulders and ran the tips of her nails through the soft hair on his chest. He moaned softly, pulling her against him as he turned to the couch and backed her into it.

Somehow his towel had remained around his waist, but Scully moved her hands over his chest and gripped the edge. He gasped lightly as her nails raked below the rim and she lowered her self onto the couch, their lips still touching, she pulled him with her then tugged the towel away from him.

Smiling against her lips, he lowered himself over her but winced at the pain in his chest from the confined space on the couch.

"You okay?" she asked when he gasped in pain again as he tried to adjust his weight over her.

"Yes, I'm fine." He lowered his head and kissed her again but she could feel the tension in his body, the pain he was feeling.

Mulder," she said pushing him up and wriggling under him.

"If you want me to get off you, wriggling like that isn't going to help!"

"Move it Mulder!" she said laughing and as he eased off her, she stood next to him. Wearing only her bra and panties, she was unaware of how alluring she looked as she took his hand in hers and slowly led him into the bedroom. The sheets were refreshingly cold against his burning skin as she pressed him leisurely to the bed. Crawling up the sheets beside him, she straddled his waist and surveyed the bruises that were already blossoming on his chest from David's handiwork.

"Does it hurt?" she asked tenderly touching the bluish welts.

"Not really."

Bending lower she pressed her lips to the bruises, kissing his chest softly. Her tongue appeared and wet the outline before she kissed it some more, then lifted her head back up to look at him.

"How about this one?" she asked pointing to a different mark on the other side of his chest. "Does this hurt too?"

"A little," he said smiling, as he trapped his lower lip between his teeth and held his breath, enjoying the warm sensation of her tongue on his tender skin. It was exquisite. Too much for him to bear and with a little push off the mattress he rolled her over and lay on top, trapping her legs with his and gently holding her hands over her head.

His lips crushed hers as he kissed her hungrily; letting his hands roam all over her body. He slipped one behind her back and lifted her enough to open her bra and pull it away, kissing the delicate skin it was covering. He looked up to her and smiled at her panting face.

"Does it hurt?" he said suddenly solemn. His eyes looked at the red mark that tainted her satin skin and she tried to turn away from him. But he forced her to look back at him. He edged his way up the bed so they were face-to-face then he kissed each eye. He let his lips trail feather light touches to her temple and across her cheek. He didn't realize the tears were falling from his face until they splashed onto her cheek.

"Mulder?"

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Look at me Mulder." When his eyes eventually met hers she was smiling. "I know you didn't mean it. I know you'd never want to hurt me like that. I know. It's ok."

She lifted her head and kissed him. Tenderly at first until their passion grew past their sorrow and drowned any regret. His lips broke free from hers and he kissed soft wet trails over her jaw and down her neck. His body slid over hers slowly and his fingers found and gripped the edge of her panties. She lifted her hips for him and he slid them off teasingly, exposing an inch of skin at a time and kissing it tauntingly, slowly before sliding them lower. As he tossed them over his shoulder with a smile, she lifted her head to see him watching her carefully. His smile was wide, a little crooked and he seemed unaware of the bandages and bruising on his chest as he crawled over the mattress towards her.

Suddenly the sound of the phone ringing made them both freeze. Their eyes crashed together and with a sigh of resignation, Scully rolled over to her side to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Agent Scully. It's Detective Ellis."

"Yes Detective, What can I do for you?" Mulder had crawled up the bed beside her, lying closely spooned at her back. His arm reached over her waist and he pulled her back to lie even more snugly against his body.

"I'm at the second murder scene in St Benedict's hostel. There is something here you might want to see. I tried calling Agent McLane but I couldn't get in contact with him."

"I'll call him and we'll be right there."

She placed the phone back and glanced at Mulder. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow.

"You have to go?" he said without opening his eyes.

"Yes."

Reluctantly he loosened his grip on her waist and let her slip off the bed. She quickly dressed in a pair of slacks and a light sweater, while he lay naked on the bed watching her ruefully.

"I'll be back soon."

"Scully!" he called out before she could leave the room and he leapt off the bed to grab her. "Just before you leave…"

His hands encircled her waist and he pushed her back against the wall. His lips claimed her possessively as he pressed his body against hers. With a little grunt he lifted her off the ground, moved his leg beneath her for support and kissed her more roughly this time. His desperation not lost on her. Her legs wrapped around him as if it was a natural pose and her arms draped over his shoulders. For a moment he thought of tearing her slacks off, but he knew she had to leave so making the kiss deeper and delving in further with his tongue, he let his hands softly brace her breasts, his thumbs and fingers pinching her nipples before finally releasing her.

They stood apart panting and staring at each other for a few seconds more then he smiled.

"Just to keep you in the mood."


	10. Chapter 10

**St Benedict's Hostel**

**Friday **

**31****st**** Dec 1.05AM**

The street outside the hostel was empty as David pulled up and parked beneath a street light. The police tape had been cut and only one end of it was still attached, making it scrape off the snowy footpath with a soft sliding sound. He spotted Dana's car across the street as he took the outside steps in twos and pushed open the heavy oak door.

The reception desk was empty as he walked by and took the stairs to the bathroom where the victim had been found. He dreaded seeing her again. After the fight with Mulder, his left eye had swollen a little and his chest ached from the tackle but it was seeing her face that he dreaded. Knowing the rage it would instill in him and the all but uncontrollable urge to hurt Mulder again_. _

Janet had been furious with him when she saw his bloodied, swollen face. As she applied the antiseptic wipes she did it with an angry scowl and a lecture. Yelling at him for looking for trouble, for sticking his nose in Dana's business. It was no use explaining to her that she was his partner.

That it wasn't sticking his nose in because they shared their business. They had to. He didn't mention to Janet that he had kissed her.

It was an impulse. He didn't plan it or think about it. With the frustration and tears in her eyes he just wanted to soothe her pain and it all happened so fast. He hugged her afterwards and felt her arms tighten around his waist. All of a sudden he wasn't so sure who was comforting whom. That's when he left, when he decided to get out of dodge.

Wiping the small smile from his lips, David walked up to the bathroom door and gently knocked before pushing it open. Dana was crouched low beside the bath with Detective Ellis, kneeling on the floor beside her. They both turned as he entered.

"What did you find?" David asked crouching beside them to see Scully's hand half way down the open drainpipe.

"One of my officers found a piece of paper," Ellis announced proudly, passing David a small see through evidence bag with a corner of a piece of paper in it.

"We're testing it against fibers found at the other murder scenes."

"But we already know these murders are connected," David said turning the paper over to see part of a small Celtic design on the corner.

"But we don't know how." Ellis offered. "The piece was found here beside the toilet and we think the page was torn up and flushed. We checked the tanks but we couldn't find the rest of it."

"So you're looking here?" David looked over to the toilet that had been uprooted and moved aside to expose the drainage pipes. Scully had on a rubber glove that reached to her shoulder and her arm was elbow deep into the pipe, hers being the slimmer arm of the two.

"Yeah. One of my guys is in the basement feeding a snake tube up to here to see if we can push the paper back out."

David nodded with a scowl as the water from the pipe over flowed and sloshed a dull gray liquid over the floor. Scully seemed oblivious to the spillage and smell as she reached deeper into the pipe.

"I think I got something…" she grunted and pushed her hand in further before pulling it out slowly and revealing a small clump of saturated paper.

Ellis slapped his hands triumphantly and grabbed an evidence bag for her to put the scrap into.

"I would shake your hand Ms Scully but you know…" he said with a smile.

"Yeah, I know!"

Ellis spread the papers out and tried to make something out of them. There were letters designs but nothing legible. "I can't make anything out."

"I'll take them to the lab so they can be treated for forensic tests David took the evidence bag and stood up. Scully was peeling off her glove and called out for him to wait.

"I'll walk out with you," she said, handing the glove back to Detective Ellis to dispose of. "Good call Detective. We'll let you know about the results."

He smiled and offered her a little wink before turning to gather up all his equipment.

"What do you think of this?" David said holding the paper up.

"It's our only real lead so far."

"How did the autopsy go?"

The conversation was forced and stilted. She knew he was feeling threatened by Mulder's presence and she wasn't fully sure why. Still angry at him for attacking Mulder she wasn't sure she wanted to know why either.

"Found traces of lysergic acid diethylamide in her body. It's a hallucinogen."

"LSD?"

"Yes. It must have been taken orally about 4 ours before she died."

David pursed his lips together as he struggled for a comment. His mind was a raging torrent of thoughts but none of them moved past his sealed lips. Glancing over at her, he noticed her eyes were glazed and unfocused, her mind obviously elsewhere… and he knew exactly where.

"Are you going to ask him to leave?" he heard himself say before he could stop himself.

"Sorry?" She looked up to him as they stepped out into the cold biting night air.

"Fox Mulder. Are you going to ask him to leave?" he asked again this time throwing the weight of his anger behind his words.

"No. Of course not." She dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand as she hurried across the empty road.

"Dana," He called out after her pressing his hand against her car door before she could open it. "You can't help him. There's nothing you can do."

"I won't leave him David. I won't."

"He needs to get help before he hurts you again. The next time it might be serious."

"He is not going to hurt me." She tried to pull the car door open but he wouldn't let her. "You don't know anything about him or our relationship. You have no right to-"

"Come and stay with me for a while. I don't like you being there alone with him," David said hurriedly his voice saturated in desperation.

Sudden realization dawned on her as she noticed the look of worry in his eyes. It wasn't simply a territorial displacement he was feeling, it was something more. Her lips suddenly burned with the light kiss she had taken so platonically earlier and she looked away, shaking her head to rid herself of the feeling.

"David," she said softly. "I know you worry about me but he won't hurt me. Trust me."

"I do trust you. I don't trust him," David spat out bitterly. "He has done nothing but lie to me and you since we met him in Seattle, why do you expect anything more from him?"

"Because…because I know him. He's hurting right now and he needs me and-"

"Or do you need him?" David said, his jealousy speaking for him.

"David if you think-"

"Look Dana." He decided to try a different tact. "We've been partners, friends, for years now and I know you better than anyone else."

"No David." Her eyes flashed up at him and clashed with his and he knew he'd never seen her so livid. "No you don't."

**Scully's Apartment.**

**Friday**

**31****st**** Dec 2.13AM**

Her footsteps disturbed the silence of her apartment as she slowly made her way through the living room. She shed her jacket and shoes, recognizing an unfamiliar feeling of excitement racing through her blood, quickening her pulse and strumming an erotic rhythm in her ears.

Detouring quickly into the bathroom she jumped into the shower, not caring that the water was cold or how her hair would curl from the dampness, she was just trying to get rid of the smell from lying on a bathroom floor, elbow deep in toilet water.

Her mind flitted over David's angry, concerned face but she quickly pushed the image away. Her stomach bubbled with excitement as she switched off the water and quickly toweled herself dry. With only a slight hesitation she grabbed her robe off the back of the door and tied it loosely about her chilled body.

She crept slowly into the bedroom and waited by the door for a moment while her eyes adjusted to darkness. He had drawn the drapes but not fully, allowing a silver sliver of moonlight to drape across the bed. The covers had all but been kicked away from his body and he lay in a tight fetal position across the mattress.

Even from the door she could see the glistening sheen of sweat across his back as he shivered in the cool night air.

"Mulder?" she called softly stepping further into the room, approaching the bed. "Mulder?"

She sat on the edge of the bed and tentatively turned to face him, and then she reached out a trembling hand to touch his arm. As she touched his cold clammy skin he flinched away from her, his head popping out of the cocoon of his arms to stare at her with a wild, scared expression in his eyes.

"Mulder!" she said feeling a cold hand of dread encircle her heart.

"Don't touch me," he whispered into the silent room through shallow panted breaths.

"Mulder, it's me, …just Scully," she soothed as she reached out to rouse him from his waking nightmare.

"No!" he yelled out, backing away from her up the bed, his back pressed into the headboard. "Don't!"

"What's wrong?" she backed away from him as she spoke, affording him as much room as she could.

"Just…don't." He scrambled off the bed in a hurry and raced out of the room. Scully stared after him in confusion, wondering if she should follow or not. Then after only a few more seconds hesitation she moved through to the living room as calmly as she could.

Mulder huddled on the edge of the couch. He'd dressed in a sweater and jeans and was bending over tying his bootlaces. He glanced up at her warily as she came in and for a moment she thought he was going to bolt, but instead he relaxed back into the soft cushion with an 'oomph'.

"You ok?" she asked carefully as she lowered herself onto the edge of the seat across from him, sensing his need for space.

"Yeah, I just…I dunno…nightmares." His fingers played with the cuff of his sleeves as his eyes darted around the room, fixing on nothing.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No!" he said with a sad laugh. "That's the last thing I want to do." He slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. Scully watched in silence as he walked over to the coat stand and grabbed his jacket.

"You're going out?"

"Yeah," he focused on buttoning up his coat, affording it more concentration than it deserved. "For a walk, to clear my head."

"Ok." Her heart sank as they repeated their routine again. Mulder ran and she watched. She wanted to run after him, tie him up and drag him back to bed but she knew she couldn't force him to stay.

At the door, Mulder stood buttoning up his coat and wrapping a scarf around his neck. He turned back to face her. "Do you want to come?" he asked softly, still refusing to look at her, his eyes boring holes into his toes.

At first she didn't answer, afraid that she'd misheard him or imagined it. But when his tired red eyes gazed up at hers and watched her carefully for her reaction she smiled.

"I'd love to."


	11. Chapter 11

**Office of Dr. Keith Morrison**

**Friday **

**31****st**** January 10.30AM**

Mulder sat at the end of the long couch and stared at the painting over the fireplace. Dr. Morrison was pouring a cup of water from a jug and placed it on the end table next to Mulder, then poured one for himself before sitting in his own chair.

"So." He sipped his water then placed it on the mantelpiece before turning his attention fully to Mulder. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to talk about today?"

Mulder could only snort.

"Nothing?" Dr. Morrison waited a moment for Mulder to answer then was about to speak when suddenly Mulder's voice broke the silence.

"Did you know that I graduated from Oxford University?"

"No I didn't."

Mulder wasn't sure if he believed him but continued anyway. "I graduated with first class honors…summa cum lade."

Dr Morrison waited for Mulder to continue, not wanting to press him and leaving him to dictate the pace.

"No here's the punch line...I studied psychology." Mulder sneered and turned to look out the window. "I mean I studied it so well I was recruited by the FBI to be a profiler and yet here I am." He gestured around the small room. "Can't even sort myself out."

"You see it as a sign of weakness that you are here." It wasn't a question and Mulder wasn't prepared to respond. "You think that anyone who needs help is weak."

"I think that I'm wasting my time here. I'm wasting your time and worst of all,- I'm wasting her time."

"The lady who accompanied you on your first visit." Another statement. Mulder was beginning to feel the furling of anger at all the definitive statements Dr Morrison was making, as if he could read Mulder so easily after only meeting him once before. "She is your…"

"Friend. My best friend." Then after a moment he added, "My only friend."

"And why do you think you are wasting her time?"

"Because this won't work." Mulder stood and walked over to the window. The snow was still falling and he wanted to watch it hit the ground feeling jealous of the way it melted so easily into nothing on the road. "I'm sitting here of my own free will. I made the decision to seek her out, to seek you out. To seek help out. But it won't work."

"Why not?"

"Because it's me." He turned to face Keith and rested his back against the window. It was cold and damp, old wooden windows letting the condensation gather. He felt it soak into his sweater and begin to dampen his shirt but he didn't care. "I want to get better. I want to be able to deal with everything I see, what happened to me…and hear and feel but some defense mechanism that I've built up over the years won't let me."

Dr Morrison waited for Mulder to continue but when he seemed to stumble he probed. "What kind of mechanism?"

"The kind that stops my voice from letting out certain words. Letting me speak of …what happened.." He walked back to the couch and sat down again but this time on the edge of the cushion as if he wanted to be ready for a quick escape. "I sit here and I look at this picture," he pointed up the farm scene over the fire. "And wonder if there is an ulterior motive for it. If it has a hidden meaning and my comment on various aspects of the room might mean something. The hap hazard decoration is actually carefully placed ornaments each significant to certain characteristics of the viewer depending on which one he or she comments on. I sit in silence wondering if it means something whether I break it or not. I'm constantly working on overdrive to anticipate any emotion I might have so I can barricade myself against it, to the extent that its only a remote feeling -as if I'm watching someone else experience it."

Dr Morrison watched Mulder look around the room, his eyes glancing at all the different trinkets left behind by various other therapists.

"Everything I do is to stop myself from feeling. Everything I do, everything I say."

"What do you feel?"

"Nothing."

"What about her?"

Mulder didn't need to ask who he meant and he cursed himself for letting her slip into this room at all. This wasn't supposed to be about her but then he mused, maybe it was all about her. Wasn't she the reason he came back. The reason he was going through this. The feel of her hand on his skin, her fingers in his hair and her lips on his flooded through his body and he had to take a deep breath to focus his mind back on where he was.

"She is the only chink in my armor." He said it with a crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes but encircled his heart.

"So you feel for her?" Mulder's silence was consensus enough. "How do you feel about her?"

"Sad." He slumped back into the couch and closed his eyes. He knew Dr Morrison was talking him into a corner and he knew the path this conversation was going to take but he couldn't help it.

"Sad? Why?"

"Because she needs more than I can give her."

"Has she said so?"

Mulder laughed. "Scully would tell you she doesn't need a thing. She is too independent. But she does need it." His voice sobered and lost any trace of humour it had. "She needs someone to care for her…love her."

"Do you?"

"I can't step into that role." Mulder avoided the question and although he knew Keith would see this he hoped he wouldn't push him. "I feel like I'm on borrowed time."

"How do you mean?"

"I died that day." His words sank into the room through a thick, heavy silence. "But I got lost in the abyss and now I'm just barely surviving. But it won't be long before they find out I'm missing and come after me."

"Is that why you are hiding? Do you see your emotional release as a beacon for them to find you faster?"

"Yeah," Mulder sneered again. "How dare I try to live again? How dare I try to get over this? This brandishing was supposed to last forever and I think reliving it would only make it worse."

"Reliving it?"

"I was in that cell for what felt like years. They told me later it was only a month or so but time there didn't matter. Nothing did. It was a dream. A bad dream -but just a dream. And as long as I can convince myself of that then I'll be fine." His voice was low, barely audible. "That's how I survived in Seattle for so long. With nothing to remind me of that past life there was nothing to tell me any different. I made new friends out there but didn't let anyone get close. It was almost 4 years without any human contact until last month, when she turned up."

"You knew her before?"

"We were partners in the FBI for years prior to …all this. Then I moved to Seattle." Mulder shook his head. "I _ran away_ to Seattle, without saying goodbye." He remembered packing up his apartment and writing that letter to her. "But then she turned up unexpectedly, by coincidence. I'm not sure who was more shocked, me or her." He smiled ruefully now as he remembered her face as they came face to face. "She was the first one to touch me. The first one I allowed to touch me. Shit…I couldn't keep my hands off her." Lost in thought for a moment Mulder allowed himself to bask in the feel of that first kiss in Seattle, grabbing her so roughly like they were in an old movie. "But then it all came flooding back to me. Why I had left and why I had left her behind."

His smile faded, the colour drained from his face and his eyes lost focus. He sat forward and clasped his hands together.

"They told me she was there." His voice was low, barely a whisper and Keith had to strain to hear him. "They told me…they caught her too. He said he would…"Keith waited in silence for Mulder to finish his thoughts. Mulder's hands gripped tighter, his knuckles white, his fingers pressing into the back of his hand, leaving marks. "I thought if I let him… If I didn't fight it…" His tears spilled over his cheeks, unnoticed. "If I didn't fight they would leave her alone. As long as they were with me, they were not with her."

Mulder held his breath. The words that had been floating in his mind, infecting him were finally out, but he felt no better.

"So you were protecting her." Mulder made no response to Keith's words. "Everything you did in there, against your will as it was, you were doing it to protect your partner. Do you see that?"

Mulder shook his head. His lips were clamped tightly shut, as if he were afraid that he might say more.

"When you left her, what did you feel?"

"Shame. Hot searing shame." Even now Mulder could feel his face redden and he closed his eyes over until the heat from his cheeks receded.

"You haven't told me what you are ashamed of."

"You've read my file. You know what's happened to me."

"I do know but that's not what I said." Keith watched Mulder's struggle and even though he knew today wouldn't be the day, he saw a vast change in this man even from the first session they shared.

"To acknowledge it is to admit it was real."

"Hiding from it is to give it power." Keith sat forward. "It was real. It did happen and you know that but you won't face up to it because you are afraid."

"You're damn right I'm afraid. I'm terrified." Mulder stood again and started to pace the small room. Feeling caged in and needing to escape. "I know that I'm handling this badly. I know as a psychologist I need to turn towards this pain and stand up to it, feel it until it's spent before I can carry on like I have a life to live but I can't. I just can't do it."

"What's stopping you?" Keith sat back into his chair and took the water from the mantelpiece sipping before the continued. "Where is the command to stop coming from?"

"From my fear." Mulder spoke without hesitation.

"And you live in a shadow of fear. How hard is it to stay protected like that? To never be able to relax or enjoy the moment for what it is rather than what you fear is coming next?"

"How hard is it?" Mulder scoffed as he pulled the cuff of his sleeve up and showed him the scar. "I spent a month in the worst kind of hell. The worst. Then when I thought I was free, when I thought I had escaped I realized I was still there. A different city, surrounded by strangers but I was still in hell."

The room held up to their silence, soaking it in like it had done many traumatic silences before. Mulder stood up and grabbed his jacket unable to take the strain anymore. "I am still there."

"Are you?" he said before Mulder could leave. "Do you think it's made a difference that you've come back to DC?"

Mulder looked over at him and frowned. He hadn't thought about Seattle. Everything had been so rushed, emotional and crazy since he stood on her doorstep on Christmas Eve. Hell everything had been spun upside down since he felt her body quivering beneath him on his bed in Seattle. That thought settled his need to run and for a moment he just leaned against the door jam unsure if he wanted to retreat back into the room.

"Yes it's made a difference." His voice was soft but he wasn't speaking so Keith would hear him, he was uttering words that had been stuck in his mind and throat for so long they had become stagnant. "It's made a difference to have her so close and accessible that all I need to do is reach out and touch her." Unconsciously the door closed and he stepped back into the room but rather than taking a seat on the couch he went to the window and touched his forehead against it. "I can't live in a cocoon and ignore her, try not to think about her, about touching her when she is so close and willing."

He smiled and even let out a little laugh but it was a tortuous sound.

"How do you feel when you touch her?"

Mulder didn't recognize it as Keith's voice. Just a question that floated through the air, a question that pinned down the answers he was imagining.

"Alive."

"How about when she touches you?"

Sprung from his trance like a coiled snake Mulder turned and his eyes pierced Keith with a stare. "I feel nothing."

"Nothing?" Deflated Mulder slumped against the window again, this time with his back.

"I want to feel nothing." He glanced up at Keith as if to check that he was still there then quickly looked back to his feet. "At first its amazing…and everything I thought it could be."

Silence permeated the room and Keith waited for Mulder to continue then when he didn't he prompted him. "And then…"

"And then I'm back there. And I want to die."

Keith took a sip of his water and Mulder wondered if the action meant something. A simple gesture after a heart wrenching confession to show him that this was nothing, this was common day occurrence and there was nothing wrong with him. Then he realized that he was just thirsty and forced his mind to relax.

"So as the sexual aggressor you feel fine." Keith sat forward and looked up at Mulder, capturing his wandering eyes only for a few seconds. "You feel alive. But as soon as the tables are turned and you become the submissive your world changes."

"Everything changes." He felt his frustration build up and clenched his teeth as if he could dampen them that way. "I want to stop touching her because I know she will want to touch me back, but I can't help it. Every time I see her I want to touch her." Mulder stood away from the window and started to pace again. "I need to touch her."

"And when you let her touch you what do you see?"

The room plunged into darkness as Mulder screwed his eyes tightly shut against the barrage of images that exploded into his mind. Concrete walls and floors, a slot of light from beneath a heavy door and the clanking of chains around his feet.

"I…I see him." His arms came up to wrap around his chest. "I smell him. I hear him. I feel him."

"What does _she_ smell like?"

The change in tact stunned Mulder into a momentary silence. He wondered what route Keith was taking with these questions but decided, again, not to psychoanalyze himself or every moment in Keith's office.

"She smells great. She uses this perfume, and it's so subtle that I can still smell the soap she uses behind it." Slowly Mulder's eyes loosened and even opened a bit. "She smells like home."


	12. Chapter 12

**Scully's Apartment**

**Friday**

**31****st**** October 5.40PM**

Dana Scully walked through the apartment on automatic mode. Her body took over the routine of placing the mail on the table along with her car keys and propelled her towards the bathroom without making her decide. The warm water filled the room with steam before she managed to undress fully. The water streaming onto her neck massaged muscles she didn't even know were aching until finally they relaxed. She woke up enough from her reverie to lather and rinse her hair but all she could manage after her stepping from the shower was to wrap herself in a large cotton towel and shuffle towards the bedroom.

It hadn't dawned on her that the living room was free of its usual clutter. His suitcase was gone and all sheets and pillows he used at night were no longer stacked neatly on the armchair. It was all too often he decided to spend the evening at a bar rather than in her company. Her head was filled with images of his body lying on her bed, his arms curling around her waist and the sight of his face so close she could count lashes on each eye.

After the untimely interruption last night when she had to leave, she focused as best she could on the case but all the while the thought of him waiting for her, naked on her bed teased painfully but deliciously at the back of her mind. Then after driving home in sweet anticipation only to find him curled up on her bed her heart sank. Not for the diminishing desire she felt but for the endured tortured despair he'd sank into while she was gone.

She had hugged him until his crying had stopped then he hurried away from her. She watched as he dressed and prepared to bolt out the door and was shocked as he turned to her and asked her to join him. They'd walked the streets in silence till dawn, with his arm around her shoulder, holding her tightly against him.

Sitting now on the edge of the bed she fought her heavy eyelids and then decided to give in. Lying back she allowed them to close over and soon fell victim into a deep sleep.

The key in the front door stirred her slumber but she didn't wake, only rolled over onto her side and clutched a pillow to her chest.

"Scully?" he called out into the dark apartment. He knew she was home after spotting her car outside, and now the evidence of her mail, her keys on the table. "Hey Scully?" The bathroom was still steamy after her shower so he figured she was in the bedroom dressing. Even after having her naked body pressed against his own, feeling only yesterday her tongue hot and wet deep inside his own mouth he still hesitated at the door to her bedroom. He knocked once then pushed it open.

The window blinds were open enough to give him a perfect view of her curves. The towel she had wrapped around her had fallen when she rolled over to clutch the pillow leaving her back bare and beautiful to his eyes.

"Hey," he said softly as he walked into the room not sure if he wanted her to wake or not. "I have food…it's your favorite."

She made no move to respond snuffled once into her pillow as her body relaxed into a deeper sleep and suddenly Mulder had a most deliciously wicked thought.

He placed the bag on to the floor and reached into it careful not to rustle the bag too much lest he wake her before he'd had his fun. He found what he was looking for and pulled it out then removed the top. It was colder than room temperature but would taste better after a couple of hours in the fridge. But he didn't have time for that right now. Checking to see if she was asleep still he dipped two fingers into the pot and dragged out a dollop of strawberry moose then smeared it along her spine.

It reached from her back between her shoulder blades to the small of her back and although she stirred she didn't wake. Her back arched and she moaned, still asleep then went still again. Mulder smiled.

He licked his fingers of the remaining moose then lowered his head and kissed her shoulder. His tongue appeared to lick a spot of moose form her spine and she moaned again. Delighting in the sound he kissed her again, licking and kissing his way down her spine until her moaning woke her.

"Mulder?"

"Boy, am I glad it's my name you said." He laughed as she rolled over onto her back, the towel still draped over her front.

"What are you doing?" she spied the tub of mousse beside her head and the residue of it on his lips.

"Waking you." He kissed her shoulder and her neck then gently touched his lips to hers.

"Well I'm awake now."

His hand appeared in front of her, two of his fingers covered in mousse again and he smeared it across her shoulders then followed the trail with his tongue.

She gasped at the contrast of the cold mousse and hot tongue her body writhing on the bed beneath his ministrations.

"Okay," Her hands came up to his shoulders and she pushed him aside. "Your turn!" she said as she straddled his hips, the towel, forgotten, falling around her lap as she reached for the pot of mousse.

After only a moment's hesitation he allowed her to pull off his sweater, careful not to hurt his wound, and then with one finger she smeared a dollop of mousse over each of his nipples then chased it away with her tongue. He held his breath, trying to enjoy the moment, the sensation. See that it was her, Scully who bent before him, her red hair brushing his skin. He groaned. Another dollop found its way to the shallow of his neck and another adorned the smooth skin to the uninjured side of his chest.

At first, all he could feel was her tongue touching him, licking, her fingers caressing his skin and her hips locked around his waist. Then the room flashed and turned black. The lights flickered and a stench of sweat and vomit permeated his nose. Thick calloused fingers touched him and he screamed.

Scully jumped up at the sound of his shriek, knocking the mousse onto the carpet where it fell incriminatingly like a splatter of blood.

"Mulder!"

"Don't fucking touch me!" he yelled, backing away from her so far he fell off the other end of the bed. Still backing away, he scrambled backwards into the corner and put his head between his knees. Making the smallest target he could, Mulder wrapped his arms around his head and started to rock.

"Mulder!" she said softly after chasing him across the room. She knelt before him, unaware of her nakedness but refrained from reaching out to touch him, not wanting to make it worse. "Shhhh, Mulder. It's okay. It's over."

He rocked silently, no more cries or screams, no moans or sobbing, just painful heavy silence. She found herself matching his position. Rocking with him and waiting.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before he loosened his grip on his head and looked up. She was still rocking, still resting her head low with her eyes closed. He snaked a hand out to her and touched her knee making her start.

"Scully?" he was confused. The room swirled, remnants on his waking nightmare still clung to his mind.

"Come here," was all she said as she lowered her knees and opened her arms. Still curled up into a ball he allowed his body to lean forward until his head was in her lap, her hands caressed his hair stroking it back from his face.

Mulder lay still until he felt his breathing relax then he became aware of how naked she was. He had rested on her lap for just over an hour, not speaking or needing to. "Thanks." He said finally.

She didn't respond so he rolled over onto his back and peered up to her face. She was smiling and looking down at him, her hair framing her face and her breasts brushing his cheek.

"Thanks for letting me."

He rolled off her and sat up then took her into his arms for a long hug. Kissing her hair and neck he squeezed her tighter then held her away from him. "I need to talk to you about something. But first..." He stood up and pulled her with him. "You need to put a tee shirt on or it won't be talking I'll be doing."

She almost blushed as she realized finally how completely naked she was but then saw the gleam of desire in his eye and delighted in it.

From the stool beside the bed she snatched her Sonics tee and dragged it over her head then grabbed a pair of running shorts from the drawer and slipped into them as well. He took her hand and led her out to the living room and pulled her down onto the couch beside him.

"I had an appointment with Dr Morrison today." He said without preamble.

"Yeah?" she said warily.

"It was strange." He looked down to his entwining hands then reached over and took her hands between his. "I think today was the first time I thought that I could do this, that I would be able to make it out onto the other side of this hell."

"Mulder!"

"And I realized that there are some definite steps I need to take." He gestured around the room and she only noticed then that his belongings were gone. "Like moving into a place of my own."

"Mulder you don't have to-"

"I do." His voice was definite. "I moved my things over there this afternoon after the session with Keith and I cleaned it up a bit. I came back over to tell you it's because of you that I'm doing this." He looked up to her. "I realised today after talking with Keith that I could have lived in Seattle for the rest of my life. You were right about what you said to me there. I was content. Not because I was happy but because I was surviving. But when you left to come back to DC, I realized that surviving wasn't enough for me anymore."

He sat back on the couch and pulled her onto his lap. One hand rested on her thigh playing with the cuff of her shorts while the other drew lines on her back, subconsciously mimicking the lines his tongue had made earlier.

"See this?" he said showing her the scar on his wrist. "This is a result of my surviving. And I don't think I want to go down that road again. But do you see this?" On his shoulder was a small mark. It was red and circular and it wasn't until Scully examined it closer that she realised it was a love bite.

"This is a result of my living. And I know I can take a whole lot more of that." She laughed as her fingers traced the outline of the red mark then she leaned over and kissed it tenderly. "But you have to know. About what happened just now, this evening?" His head lowered and his eyes clouded over. "That's not something I can stop…yet. Its not something I can control and I get no warning."

"Mulder, look at me." Her finger lifted his chin to make him look. "When you kiss me you transport me to a place I've never been. It's wonderful…amazing and unique," she kissed him. "Simple," kissed him again. "Kiss." And again. "So when you get used to me touching you," her hands roamed over his bare chest, "and get used to me kissing you…" her lips captured his for a long soft kiss.

"You know what Scully," he said smiling against her lips, loathing to break contact with her. "I don't think I could ever get used to you kissing me." They hugged again pulling apart only when his stomach growled noisily.

"Time for food," she said as she climbed off him and pulled her up with him into the kitchen.

"I brought home food, wait a sec." He hurried into the bedroom and carried the shopping bag out then emptied it onto the table. "I wanted to make you dinner." She looked down at the contents on the shopping and smiled. Wrapping her arms around him for a hug, she froze as he stiffened.

"Sorry," she said as she pulled her arms back.

"No Scully." He took her arms and slid them back around his waist while wrapping his own around her. "Don't ever be sorry for touching me. I need this, I need you to be able to do what you want. It will take a while for me to get used to it but I will get used to it, I promise." Planting a kiss on her forehead he hugged her tightly then returned his attention back to making dinner.

**Patuxent River Park**

**Friday**

**31****st**** December 6.50PM**

He walked the edge of the shore letting his feet get wet and enjoying the feel of the soft pebbles beneath his toes. He pulled off his sweater and threw it behind him then yanked on his shirt, ripping the buttons off as he let it flutter to the ground. The skin on his arms shimmered with movement and he delighted as another tattoo appeared on his wrist. Chinese writing that he thought went well with the dragon and Maori designs. On his shoulders he examined the Celtic designs and watched his chest sparkle to life as a small crucifix appeared painlessly there.

"Almost time," he said as he clenched his fists and watched the muscles work beneath the colorful designs. He wanted to do it now. Wanted to finish it now but he had to wait for the right moment. It would be perfect, poetically handled at midnight on New Year's eve. Laughing he couldn't hold it back, while throwing his arms into the air and screaming at the top of his voice, the scream turning into a vigorous laugh as he fell back onto the beach, his arms and legs splayed.

In his pocket his phone rang and he took a moment to settle himself before answering it.

"Yeah," he said, traces of his laugh still clinging to his voice.

"We have another." The voice was curt and he knew still angry with him.

"Where?"

"At the Children's National Medical Center."

"Okay I'll be right there," then before the phone call was disconnected he called out her name. "Dana?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." When she said nothing he wasn't sure if the connection had been cut off or not but after checking the screen on his phone saw she was, her name was still there.

"I'll see you at the center."

The soft beeping in his ear told him she had cut the connection and he slipped the phone back into his pocket. He looked down at his chest again, at the crucifix there and remembered the face. A young girl who had lived on the streets. Slack brown hair and a plain face. He mentally prepared himself for the shock he would have to show then grabbed this clothing and hurried back to his car.


	13. Chapter 13

**National Children's Medical Centre**

**Friday**

**31****st**** December 7.40PM**

An officer led Scully up to the ward that had been closed off for the CSU. She stepped beneath the caution tape and crossed the wide empty room to the bed where the latest victim lay. It was a young girl she guessed to be aged around 17. Her hair was splayed out on the crisp white pillow but the sheets she was lying on were stained with blood that had flown from her damaged wrists. Across her neck was the bruising that had been left behind by hands or rope, Scully couldn't tell yet.

"Who found her?"

"A duty nurse last night. She was doing a midnight check on all the patients."

"Wait, all the patients?" Scully looked around the room and noticed that even though there were no other beds in the room remnants of patients and equipment was evident. Stray leads from EKG machines and tubes from IV lines were curled up on various windows and papers from patient reports were strewn on the floor. "There were people in here when she was killed?"

"At 9.30 last night Maria Cochise made her last round for medications and the girl, Jessica King, was awake and reading." The cop pulled the page out of his folder and passed it over to Scully. It was the medical report that should have been clipped to the end of Jessica's bed. "Then when the same nurse came round for a midnight check she was dead."

"She was in for asthma?"

"She is from a shelter down town. The operator called an ambulance two nights ago when she was having an attack and she's been in here since."

"Do you have her records?" Scully took the file the officer held out then read through it as she circled the bed.

"Footage from the CCTV in the hospital shows something…something strange."

Scully looked up from the file and frowned at his chosen words. "Strange?"

"Someone and I use the term lightly," he gestured over to a side room that was the nurse's station but now housed a bundle of security officers. "Someone walked across the room as the girl knelt on her bed and it looks like they sat next to her on the bed. We can't get a clear picture of him and there is no sign of him in the hallway before or after he is by the bed."

The policeman nudged one of the security officers who were manning the controls of the video station. He nodded curtly and pressed a few keys on the console then sat back.

Scully watched as the girl sat up abruptly on the screen then held her arms out in front of her. The picture too dark so Scully couldn't make out her face but it was plain to see who it was. However from the side of the screen a shadow crossed the room, as the video moved with 3 second intervals. Scully leant closer to the screen as if it would help bring it into focus but it was no help.

"Who is that?" she muttered half to herself.

"We can't tell. The nurse was in here for the night. The cameras in the hall show no movement and the only entrance was into the nurse's station. This station, but as you can see," Officer Clark gestured around the room to a small window that wasn't big enough to fit through. "There's no way he came or went through there."

"Did the CSU go through this station?" she asked glancing out the window where there was a 40ft drop.

"With a fine tooth comb before they let us back in."

"And the drop zone outside?"

"Of course."

"Any footage in the other corridors that come close to matching this guy?" she asked the security man.

"No. I've been through the whole day's footage as well as the night tapes just to make sure he wasn't around all day.. .. I got nothing."

"What have you got?"

Scully spun to see David hovering in the door way, his notebook in his hand and his eyes on the screen. He refused to meet her eyes and she felt the unfamiliar tingle of anger well up inside her. The police officer looked from Scully to Mc Lane and wondered if he was going to have to go through the scene again but thankfully, Scully took the initiative and walked David through it.

He knelt by the bed and checked beneath it as she told him about the victim. He knew there'd be nothing there but he had to make the effort, had to keep up appearances. From his vantage point on the floor he could watch her without her noticing. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was grasping the file in one hand as she looked around the room. David couldn't hold back his smile as he thought about the night he had planned.

The phone ringing in his pocket startled him away from his wandering thoughts as he stood, pulling it out of his jacket pocket.

"Yeah." Scully turned to him and he gestured for her to follow him out into the hallway. He listened on the phone for a while. "Wait for us. We'll be there in 15 minutes. Do not make a move without me." Then he hung it up without speaking again. "That was Detective Ellis. He's found a connection."

"What is it?" she asked when he failed to continue.

"They were all under the care of Dr Robert Nielson. He is a counselor that worked for the state a couple of years ago, working with street kids who were being rehoused."

"This was on state records?" Scully said frowning as she flipped open Jessica's file. "Shouldn't this have been seen before?"

"All of the victims were street kids. Who were in hospital for various illnesses and then rehoused into foster care." David said as he took her elbow and led her away from the crime scene. "While in foster care they each required hospitalization again and shortly afterwards were dead."

"This doesn't make sense." Scully reached into her pocket for her phone but David steered her into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. On her phone display she watched the network bars disappear.

"Det. Ellis told me they are about to make an assault on Dr Nielsen's house but I told him to hold off until we get there."

"David, wait." Scully turned to face him and he watched her, waiting for her confusion to manifest itself in inane questions he didn't want to answer yet. "Where did Ellis get the warrant? This is an FBI investigation. He has no jurisdiction on this case at the moment and had no authority to request a warrant for a raid."

"Look Dana, we have him. We are close to the end of this so let's just go talk to Ellis and see what he has to say."

Scully wasn't convinced but with the end of this investigation so close she decided a few words with Ellis wouldn't hurt. They hurried out of the hospital and into the darkened parking lot, straight for David's car. She sat in the passenger seat and was reaching around for her seatbelt when the large swab of cotton closed over her nose and mouth. Even as her eyes watered and her hands fought at the fingers that held the swab tightly over her face she recognized the smell of ether.

David checked over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being watched then let her slackened body rest against the seat before climbing in, shutting the door behind him and tearing out of the car park.

**Mulder's Apartment**

**Friday**

**31****st**** December 9.30PM**

Mulder glanced around the room at the spartan furniture and turned the TV a little. He glanced at to the overstuffed armchair and then back to the TV, then turned it a little bit more. The kitchen was a mess of shopping sacks discarded after the grocery trip he'd taken with Scully. After having dinner in her apartment they dressed and left for the grocery store to stock up on essentials for his new place. She helped him put the food away and then went about hanging his clothes up in the small closet in the bedroom.

She'd made up the bed with fresh sheets and was in the middle of vacuuming the living room as he carried the TV and VCR up from her car and tuned them in, when her cell rang. The look in her eyes as she left made him want to hold on and not let go, keep her at his apartment and toss her phone out of the 3rd storey window but instead he let her go. Now sitting alone in his new home he wandered about moving furniture until he could get it looking right and exhausted, found himself falling into the solitary armchair with a whoosh.

The cable hadn't been connected yet and he had no videos unpacked to watch so he just sat alone in the semi-darkness his mind rehashing the session he'd had with Keith earlier that day. Scully was supposed to be coming back later with a bottle of wine for them to share, but he remembered how a case could swallow you up into a cocoon of timeless hours.

In the kitchen the soft buzzing of his phone vibrating on the counter brought him back to the present and he ambled into answer it. He figured it was Scully telling him that she was going to be late so he hesitated to connect the call.

"Hello?"

"Mulder?" It was David. Mulder's heart skipped a beat and he immediately felt his defenses rising up. "Something has happened."

"What? What's going on? Where's Scully?" Mulder stammered and he was already racing into the bedroom to grab some clothes after changing into shorts for the clean up.

"She's been taken. He took her." David's voice broke as he spoke. "I promised the AD I wouldn't call you but I had to…I know you'd want to…"

"Where is she?" Mulder was already wearing his sweats and a hoodie and was grabbing his keys.

"I'm at Patuxent River Park. East of the 3rd and south of Highway 50."

"Yeah I know it."

"I followed the car and I called for back up but I'm going in."

"David wait," Mulder didn't care for David and certainly had no altruistic reasons to keep him alive but the thought of one man storming a hideout, where Scully was being held captive as more than he could bear. "Wait for back up, wait for me!" he yelled but the phone was dead.


	14. Chapter 14

**Patuxent River Park**

**Friday**

**31****st**** December 10.15PM**

David had arranged Scully on the floor and left her ankles and wrists tied. The cable ties were heavy duty plastic and he knew here was no way she would wriggle out of them if she was conscious, so he felt safe enough to leave her unsupervised in the beach hut near the shore line. He'd taken her gun, her shoes and her pants and had tossed them into the trunk of his car.

He was expecting Mulder any minute now, knowing it would take a little over an half an hour to make it from Scully's apartment to this place. And then he'd allow Mulder another 15 minutes to find this secluded spot. He was careful to gun his car on the snow sprinkled road to leave easily readable tracks for Mulder to follow, but he knew it wouldn't be long before their disappearance was noticed so he was eager to get this finished.

The sound of gravel crunching under car tires made him look up and he raced across the open field to wave Mulder down. He had deliberately scraped his face a bit to give the impression he'd been fighting and had even gone so far as to rip his shirt sleeve at the shoulder. Mulder killed the lights of his car and climbed out, meeting David by the hood of the car.

"Where is she?" he demanded crouching behind the car with David, his terrified eyes scanning the wooded area. There was a lake to the south of where he had parked and a thicket of trees lined the area east of that. To the west, the road he had driven on was secluded but lined with trees all the way and north of them was another wood.

"I followed them to this spot and by the time I managed to get here he was gone."

"You saw him turn in here?" The road was barely enough for one car and the dust trail had been dampened down with a light snowfall.

"Yeah." David pointed over towards the lake. "There's a small hut, probably for fishing equipment in the summer. I think he took her in there."

"Where is his car?" Mulder checked the grounds but couldn't see any signs of another vehicle. Even David's car was parked to the edge of the lot and there didn't seem to be any tire tracks apart from his own.

David seemed to ignore his question as he had his eyes focused on the small hut. Mulder guessed it was about 8ft square with an opening that faced the shoreline. He had often frequented these places in Seattle finding the quiet day of fishing more appealing than alone in his apartment. David raised his fingers to his lips and motioned for Mulder to follow him. Crouched low they hurried across the open ground and into the tree line. Mulder spotted David's gun hanging rigidly by his side and suddenly felt vulnerable.

Together they crept up to the hut and David leant his back against the wall before darting his head up to the window and glancing in. With silent hand gestures Mulder recognized he motioned for the ex FBI agent to do the same.

At the sight of Scully tied up Mulder could barely contain the rage that swelled up inside him. He couldn't really tell from his quick glance but she didn't seem to be injured and he took from that what solace he could to calm his heart. By the time he'd regained his composure he spotted David standing by the door with his gun aloft ready to shoot.

"Wait!" Mulder said as quietly as he could without shouting and he jumped up to stop him. "Don't shoot!" He stood in front of the door. "She's alone in there. There is no one else around."

"Get out of the damn way Mulder!"

"Just wait." Mulder pushed David to the side of the door and stood to the other side, each of them with their backs to the wall. He touched the door handle and slowly turned it. The lock slid back soundlessly and he opened the door a fraction. Then counting down silently, holding his fingers to David he prepared to push it open fully.

1…2…3…

With a loud bang the door slammed against the inside wall of the cabin as Mulder pushed it open and jumped aside. David jumped out of the side of the door jamb and aimed his gun into the hut but nothing happened. Mulder waited for the sharp pop of the gun and clenched his fists so tight he left small moon shaped cuts in his palms.

But when the silence expanded he turned into the door and rushed over to Scully. She was unconscious but her heart was beating strong and fast.

"Scully," Mulder soothed gently as he lifted her head up off the floor and rested it on his lap. "Hey Scully!"

She moaned softly and started to move her head towards his voice and his heart soared. His fingers fumbled with the cable ties that bound her so tightly but he couldn't loosen them.

"David…" she said, her voice raspy.

"Hey, it's Mulder," he said trying to diminish the pang of jealousy he felt as she muttered his name.

"David…" she said again then lolled her head to the side as she tried to concentrate. "He's…" Her head rolled over towards Mulder again but all she could see was David standing over them both, a malicious smile on his lips and another swab of ether in his hand. "No…David!"

"Scully, relax. Hey McLane," Mulder said as he turned to ask for something to cut the cable ties off her only to be met with a face full of cotton.

Mulder struggled against the hands that held it against him but he was powerless as the chemical took hold of his body, slackening his muscles and finally his mind.

Dana Scully woke slowly. Her ankles were no longer tied and she found herself sitting on a soft comfy chair. The room was dark but she could still make out a window to her left and a door to her right. It was a different room than the last one she woke up in and this time Mulder wasn't holding her. A cushion that had been placed under her head had fallen onto her lap and she noticed then that her pants were still missing but her blouse was intact. A moment of panic flittered away as she spotted Mulder lying on the ground by her feet. He was bound with cable, tied and gagged with Duct tape and still unconscious but on his shoulder where his wound was supposed to be healing was a growing dark patch of blood, soaking through his hoodie.

Across the room a flicker of movement caught her eye and she whipped her head around to see it fully, immediately regretting the quick shift as it made her head pound mercilessly.

"You're awake."

"David…what is going on?" she tried to sit up but the ether still had a hold of her so she slumped back into the seat.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this," he uttered and Scully's mind remembered the case in Seattle where Reverend Hank Pearson had muttered the same words before shooting his son in the head.

"What are you talking about?" she tried desperately to keep her voice calm as if this wasn't an unusual situation.

"Oh Please Dana. Don't try this shit with me." He laughed harshly and stood up. She watched the shadow cross the room towards the door and flick on a light. It was a weak bulb that didn't reach all corners of the room but was enough to see clearly by. "Don't try to be my friend, gain my trust or anything like that. We've moved onto a new level of FBI investigation here and I don't want you to ruin it."

"What do you want?" All traces of her FBI training were gone from her voice and she all but screamed at him. No more platitudes or comforts would come from her she decided.

"You had your chance to give me what I wanted," he said as he walked towards her and let his fingers trail a soft path from her shoulder to her wrist. "But you blew it." He circled her chair and walked to where Mulder was lying motionless on the floor. He lifted his leg and pressed one booted foot against the growing dark patch of blood on his shoulder. Then did it again but rougher. Mulder moaned in pain but he didn't wake up.

"This was you? All this? Those kids?"

"Oh boo fucking hoo!" he sneered whipping around to face her. "Those kids were criminals. Every single one of them."

"They were sick."

"So I just hurried the process along." He was stalking around the back of her chair now and she craned her neck to keep him in her sights. "Besides I didn't do anything they didn't want me to do."

"What did you do?" She said quietly noting that Mulder's fingers twitched as he started to come out of his chemically induced haze.

"I healed them." He said and he started to unbutton his shirt. "I took away their pain and then showed them the light."

"How did you…" she tried to concentrat on what he was saying but he eyes kept fluttering back to Mulder's who was moving more and more now.

"It was easy once you knew how." He pulled off his shirt and she saw with shock his chest and back were covered in a myriad of tattoos, she knew hadn't been there before. He reached his arms up into the air, curving his back and stretching as if fitting into a new tee shirt that was too tight.

"What happened to you?"

"What happened to me?" he laughed again but there was no mirth in his voice. "I thought you could be on this side with me when it all came to an end but instead you chose him." He gave Mulder a vicious kick as he stepped over him earning a groan from the fallen man. "But this works out just as well. And after that little display of violence he showed you the other day it will be easier to pin this on him than I thought."

David noticed Mulder stir and bent low to his face. He pulled a knife from the back of his pants and held it up to Mulder cheek, piercing the skin enough to draw blood.

"Decided to join the soiree Mr. Mulder?" he bellowed as he dragged the tip of the knife across Mulder's cheek. Mulder winced but refused to cry out even as the warm blood wet his face and trailed into his mouth. "Well you are just in time for Dana to try and stall the proceedings by keeping me talking, but I think instead of the oral we'll go directly to the practical."

David pushed away from him and approached Scully. She tried to melt into the back of her chair but it was no use. He grabbed her arm and wrenched her out of the seat then pushed her over to the table. He made her bend over and pushed her face into the cold wooden surface then lifted her shirt off her back. It bunched around her shoulders uncomfortably but Scully was waiting.

Waiting for what she wasn't sure but she knew it had to come. It had to stop him from doing what ever he was going to try. She couldn't let this be her final moment, or Mulder's.

She felt David's finger run along the rim of her panties and squeezed her eyes shut. Her arms and legs still felt heavy from the anesthesia and she couldn't fight him off.

"I've always wanted to touch this," he said as he leaned over her and kissed the Ouroboros tattoo at the base of her back. She shivered in revulsion then froze. A tingle of pain shimmered on her wrists and she turned her eyes towards her hands that were on the table forced above her head.

Just below the cable tie where her muscles stretched her skin, a small red line appeared. She watched it in awe as the line darkened and expanded then spilt her skin with a burning pain that shot up her arm. First it was just one wrist then the other and then she noticed her back was tingling too where he had kissed her.

"What are you doing?" she struggled to keep her eyes open and against the hand that was resting on her back, pressing her onto the table.

"Just relax," David's voice was soothing but his eyes were rolling towards the back of his head and he arched his back as the tingling caressed his own skin. "It will be over in a second."

"David…stop…" her head was spinning from the lack of blood and she tried to focus on the walls of the cabin. But they shimmered and moved and suddenly disappeared. She found herself walking along a beach, soft warm sand between her toes and a beautiful sunset over the horizon. She tried to remember what she was doing here and abruptly decided she needed to go into the water. The desire was so strong that she started to run towards the waves, letting them lap her legs and stomach before plunging below the icy surface.

She dove beneath the water and skimmed the sandy bottom for a moment then popped out with a gush of freezing water, panting for air. He was standing on the shore and she knew she had to go to him. Knew he was here for her and she didn't mind. She hurried as best she could through the crashing surf over to him and walked into his open embrace.

"I knew you would help me," she said as his arms moved away from her back and rested on her shoulders. His fingers pressed her shoulder blade reassuringly then moved to her neck and circled it. She knew it was going to happen and she welcomed it.

Mulder shook his head and tried to wake up but the drugs were very strong. They had hold of his muscles in a lethargic wave he couldn't shake off until he saw her. Her arms jerked on the table, the soft banging spreading the pool of blood that had gathered beneath her while David stood behind her. He seemed to be in a trance of his own, his head jerking a bit but it was his back that drew Mulder's attention. Low on his back was a shimmering patch of skin that seemed to move, ripple and change colors before Mulder's eyes. Then, just as the Ouroboros appeared on David, Mulder panicked.

He shuffled himself over to the side of the wall and pushed himself up, then made an almightily leap with his restrained legs and slammed into David's back. David fell forward onto Scully and Mulder slid sideways catching his shoulder on the edge of the table. He screamed in pain but with the duct tape still over his mouth it was muffled and low. Mulder wanted to stop, to lie down, close his eyes, sleep for eternity but the sight of the blood on Scully's arms and face was enough to spur another wave of adrenalin. He sat up and managed to roll over onto his knees then jumped up onto his feet. He was unsteady and he felt the room sway around him but fought the urge to collapse as he charged forward again and bounced off David as hard as he could.

They tumbled awkwardly to the ground and crashed into the door, making it fly open as they rolled onto the hard deck outside. The knife released from David's grasp and Mulder lunged towards it, scrambling away trying to cut the cables as he rolled.

David was stunned by the fall and took a moment to reorientate himself he spotted Mulder sitting up, his hands were free but he struggled with the ties on his ankles. David rushed Mulder and kicked Mulder in the chin snapping his head back and making him drop the knife, then straddled him and punched him again.

"You fucking idiot," he yelled as he punched Mulder again and again, punctuating each word with another pound of his fist. "What did you think was going to happen? Huh?" he said punching Mulder again and ignoring the pain in his hand. "Did you think I was going to lie down and let you get away with this?"

"Lie down?" Mulder coughed up a mouth full of blood as David gave him a reprieve while he shook some feeling back into his fist. "I'd settle for the fetal position." He lifted up both his knees and connected with David's back then as he lurched forward and Mulder raised his hips to get him to fall to the side. Then he lifted his legs up again and brought his feet down hard and heavy into David's crotch.

David roared out in pain and rolled away, his hands clutching himself between his legs as Mulder shuffled the other way to where the knife was lying. He grabbed it with a free hand and quickly snapped the cable tie that was holding his feet together. Once they were free he hurried into the cabin where Scully was still lying on the table and he gently carried her over to the chair, despite his own agony. Her carotid pulse was weak but it was something to feel it at all. He looked down at her wrists and winced at the sight of all that blood still dripping from her open wounds. He yanked off his sweater ignoring the chilly air, not bothering to mind his own wounded shoulder and tightly he wrapped a sleeve around each of her wrists, then wrapped them both in the body of his sweater.

As he turned to deal with David he was met by a smack of something hard in the face. Mulder felt something crack and fell to the floor, teeth falling out of his mouth even as his head connected with the wooden floorboards.

"Fuck you!" David was limping towards him hefting a large rock in one hand, spittle of blood on the corner of his mouth. He held the rock up high in both hands over his head and swung his arms to bring it down onto Mulder's head but before he could finish the motion, the former FBI agent had sat up, the knife in his hand and plunged it forward into David's chest.


	15. Chapter 15

**Howard University Hospital**

**Saturday**

**1****st**** January 5.20AM**

Mulder moved his legs as the Nurse leaned over him to get access to her machinery. The stitches in his shoulder had been replaced and the new heavy duty dressing that was covering them was restricting his movements. The doctor had tried to put him in a sling but Mulder refused, wanting to get back to Scully's side as soon as he could.

He found her in the ICU attached to several IV's that he presumed were saline and blood after all that she had lost. Nurses checked on her hourly and spoke softly to him but his mind was focused on one thing only. Her face.

Her eyes were closed and had been since she was pushed onto the table. He shook his head to rid himself of that image but it was no use, burned as it was into the vestiges of his mind. AD Skinner had sat with him for a while. He remembered vague words about David McLane's body being found but couldn't be sure if it was important or not. As far as he was concerned nothing was important until she opened her eyes for him.

His lids were heavy and getting hard to control but he forced them to stay open. He got off the chair and walked into the adjourning bathroom to splash water on his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, the swollen marks on his cheek were bruising on his face and made him look like he'd gone a few rounds with Muhammad Ali, but even this seemed trivial right now.

Back by her bedside he reached out and took her arm in his hand and gently rubbed his thumb against her cool skin.

"You know Scully, this is surreal." He smiled down at her and leaned over to kiss her lips, grinning with delight as he watched her eyes fluttered open. "Hey!" he said excitedly, kissing her again even as his hand reached for the Nurse's call button.

For a few moments he hadn't the chance to say anything as the room flooded with hospital personnel checking and rechecking her vitals before adjusting her IV's and then leaving the room, satisfied that she would be fine. When left alone the room filled with an expanding silence.

"Hey," she said her voice raspy, so he filled a glass with water and helped her sit up to take a drink. "What happened?"

"He's dead," Mulder said bluntly and watched her eyes wince then wished he hadn't said it so coldly. But then that was how he felt. "I'm sorry Scully."

"Why are you sorry?" she rolled her head from side to side as if stretching her neck and finally settled in a position that faced him. "What was he doing? How did he?"

"I'm not sure. It doesn't make sense."

"Mulder you're only back in the state a week and already you're knee deep in an X file." She laughed a little but seemed to lack the energy needed to prolong it. "His skin…it was…moving." She looked at him for confirmation but he was shaking his head.

"Your tattoo. He…took it." Mulder squeezed her arm. "Or he tried to."

"What?" she struggled to sit up and pulled the hospital gown away from her back. "Is it there?"

Mulder peered around her back to where the gown split open. And there it was…her tattoo was still there. The ink seemed to be more faded than it should be but it was still plain to see and undamaged.

"It's still there." He confirmed and with his hands on her shoulders he eased her back into her pillows. "But he had it on his back. It wasn't there then, after your wrists…after the blood…it was there."

"How…" she sighed as if the conversation was too much for her so he decided to drop it.

"Relax Scully, not now, get some rest and just relax." He pulled his chair closer to her bed but before he could sit down she shifted her body over on the bed, making a space and looked at him to join her. Without hesitation he lay down beside her and curled her body next to his. His arms draped along her, holding her against him while his thumbs pads he stroked gentle circles onto her skin.

"Scully?" he said his voice just a whisper.

"Hmm?" she was already falling asleep.

"I love you."

A contented sigh escaped her lips and he felt her body relax completely against him. "I love you too."

"Happy New Year," he murmured into her hair as he kissed the top of her head and felt his own eyes close over aswell.

**The End.**

***This story has been... 5 years waiting to be published! Gasp! Talk about procrastinating! **

****Thank you Lily and Lisa for the beta that made this piece so much more readable. :) **


End file.
